


Not Quite Evil

by allthestripes



Category: South Park
Genre: M/M, Minor Character Death, imp tweek, some violence, youth pastor craig
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:13:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23716492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allthestripes/pseuds/allthestripes
Summary: Craig didn't expect this kind of excitement to come into his life. But now an imp is will him, and he's determined to find out the secret of his past. Maybe even accidentally fall in love.
Relationships: Craig Tucker/Tweek Tweak
Comments: 28
Kudos: 70





	1. Sticky Situation, Unexpected Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> I have been working on this story for literally months. I don't know how long it will be in total, but I hope y'all like it. I'll try and make updates weekly on Saturdays.

Craig Tucker had never really felt a strong calling to the church in his life. He'd never cared much for religion, but he hadn't been against it either. He became a youth pastor for only one reason: it made his dad happy.

He could have done just about anything else seeing as his grades had been stellar, he was extremely tall, and had an athletic build from years of multiple sporting seasons. His good looks didn't hurt him either. Before he had graduated, he'd been offered not only sporting scholarships, but a few modeling agencies had tried to scout him as well. If asked, Craig would inform people that the ministry was his passion, but that wasn't true. He loved the stars and the planets, and would have been the happiest if hired by NASA.

Yet, when his father expressed an interest in him staying close to home, Craig hadn't fought it. Above all else, he enjoyed boredom, and his father's suggested career offered just that. It took only three years to complete his degree, and being a well-known figure in his hometown, had not needed to go through the multi-year process of being assessed for hire. At twenty-one, Craig was the youngest full-time worker in the entirety of South Park. The young man wasn't one to do something only to please people, however, so he had thrown himself into his work with gusto, allowing it to take over his life. He enjoyed it now (or at least he told himself he did), talking to the youth of South Park and helping them cultivate a love for Jesus in their hearts. If he couldn't study the stars, he might as well study the Heavens.

So, how, one might ask, did he find himself in his current situation, surrounded by cultists? Tied to a cross? With demonic summoning circles drawn all over the ground under him? Craig wasn't even sure where they were, but he suspected the back room of the Catholic church. Crazy shit seemed to go down there often enough that no one would investigate strange noises coming from the room. He wasn't sure how he got himself into this mess, but he did know he was annoyed by it. He frowned, shifting his arms against his bonds. He was vexed by the skill in which they had been tied, recognizing the knots from his time in Scouts. Glancing around, he spotted a familiar face under one of the hoods and called to him.

"Hey, Firkle, what the actual fuck? I'm getting irritated," he huffed, hardly seeming concerned about his predicament.

"Quiet, conformist!" the teen yelled at him. "We need a sacrifice to make this work! It's not our fault you just happened to be here when we needed!"

"Motherfuck-" Craig was cut off as the circles on the ground began to glow in response to the cultists chanting. His eyes widened a bit, having not expecting this to lead to anything. Though, he supposed if Jesus was real, then it only made sense that demons would be too. After all, he knew for a fact the devil existed since he and Jesus had squared up when he was little in the town's boxing arena.

He was pulled from his thoughts as a demon began to manifest, the screams of the damned filling the room, great plumes of Hell fire shooting into the air. The first thing Craig noticed was the shock of wild blonde hair that covered the thing's head. The second were the two small, red horns that stuck out of the mess. Then the red wings that sprouted from his shoulders, and his tail, which swished around him, the barb on the end looking sharp enough to stab something clean through. Finally, Craig took in the creature's full body, unsure what to think of the thing's fuzzy goat legs. Or the ripped, green fabric wrapped around his neck like a scarf.

Once emerged entirely, the demon twisted his (did demons have genders?) neck side to side in rapid succession, cracking it loudly. His eyes blinked open, and he looked around the room at the cultists and Craig, taking in his new surroundings. "What do we have here?" he murmured to himself, close enough for only the young pastor to hear. Craig shivered slightly at the sound of the demon's silky voice. Though it was higher pitched and a bit scratchy, something about it also make it very, very clear that he should not be fucked with. Maybe it wasn't so much the voice as the horns that could probably gouge out an eye if rammed into his face?

"Oh, servant of the Dark One!" the cultists began to chant in unison. "Here we offer you a virgin sacrifice; please accept our offer, and bring havoc to the world! We live to serve you and the Dark One, and we willingly give you anything you desire!"

"You little fuckers!" Craig snapped, angry that they knew such a personal thing about him. Who the fuck was talking about his sex life, or lack thereof, with these assholes? It had better not have been Tricia, if she knew what was good for her.

The demon smirked lightly, the edge of his lips twitching up as he looked between Craig and the group. His wings, which Craig couldn't help but liken to a hummingbird with how fast they beat, brought him closer to the youth pastor. He looked him up and down curiously before speaking. "Well, sacrifice, do you have any last words?"

Craig looked around him for a moment, taking in all the little shitty teenagers that were trying to fuck him over. Deciding he might as well go all in on the one thing that might save him, he locked eyes with the demonic creature. He couldn't help but notice the unnaturally green color they held, but he was a supernatural being, so Craig supposed he wasn't actually that surprised to see it. The demon's eyes widened slightly as Craig looked into them, and he thought that the demon might have backed up a bit, though it could have been his imagination. "Oh, whoever-the-fuck-you-are," he answered blandly, "I offer you in return these ten cultists for sacrifice. Fuck off and leave me alone, I have a youth group to be in charge of."

Silence filled the room, none of those gathered having expected this answer from the man. Shortly after, laughter cut through the heavy quiet, and all eyes went to the demon. "I accept your sacrifice," he purred, then turned to the gathered teens, his eyes turning the shade of molten lava, the pupils retracting to slits as a sadistic grin took over his face, revealing jagged teeth.

The cultists screamed and tried to run, frantically scrabbling over each other, but they didn't get far. The demon hardly had to try as he captured them, ripping their souls from the bodies and leaving the empty shells in heaps on the dirty floor. Not a single cultist made it to the door before they were dead.

Tossing the souls carelessly through the glowing circles he had come through, the demonic illumination that had been radiating from the portal vanished and the candles that had been the only other light source went out. In the pitch blackness, Craig found he could see the demon's eyes, which had returned to the green he had first seen, glowing slightly and turned on him.

"Now... who are you, human?" he asked, his beating wings drawing him closer to Craig, who was still tied to the cross. "It doesn't seem very pastor-ly to willingly damn a bunch of children to the fiery pits." Craig could feel the wind from the demon's wings ghosting over his skin as he began to circle him. "Then again, I suppose you don't seem much like a pastor anyways."

Craig frowned. "I don't care what you think. If you aren't going to untie me, kindly fuck back off to wherever it is you came from. Those shits weren't going anywhere but Hell anyway, not after this bullfuckery."

The demon laughed at him, making Craig's face flush with anger. He opened his mouth to speak, but froze, feeling the demon's tail snaking against his arm. He turned his head to look at it in the dark, straining his eyes to see. Was this Hellish being going to kill him and leave anyway...?

The next thing Craig knew, he was dumped onto the ground, the ropes that had kept him in place severed by the barb on the creature's tail. He grunted when he hit the floor, but quickly jumped to his feet. "What the fuck, dude?" he snapped, brushing himself off. Placing a hand on the wall, feeling the chipping paint under his fingers, he walked towards the door. This room definitely needed an update.

Finding his target, Craig flicked on the light switch, blinking rapidly to adjust to the sudden, florescent change. He looked back at the demon and found he was still watching him. "Uh... are you just going to stand there?" he asked. What exactly was he supposed to do in this situation? More importantly, why wasn't the demon speaking? He hadn't had any trouble earlier. Then Craig saw then the fear on the other's face. Filled with confusion, the young man stepped towards the blonde creature, holding his hands out palm-first to him. He wasn't sure if it was to protect himself or be comforting, it could honestly go either way.

"Hey, what's wrong with you?" he asked as gently as he could. Beating around the bush was never his strong suit. He was surprised when the demon spoke, confirming his suspicion that something had spooked him. His voice wavered and his eyes were wide, conveying the terror the Hell spawn was feeling.

"We're in a c-church," he forced out, a slight whimper on the end of his words.

Craig frowned. "Yeah. We've been here the whole time. What's wrong with you?" he repeated. When he got another whimper in response, the youth pastor found himself actually feeling sorry for him. Craig let out a heavy sigh and motioned the other to follow him. "Just stay close to me; the faster you're out of here, the faster you'll feel better and you can go on your way to spread, what was it those shits said? Havoc? Just do that."

The demon gulped and glided swiftly to his side, grabbing onto the back of Craig's jacket tightly with a clawed hand. Craig couldn't help but be shocked by the vast change between the monster that had entered into the room and this quivering thing following behind him now. He passed quickly by the stage, the demon letting out a pathetic sound of distress when he saw the giant cross with Jesus' image hooked high up on the wall.

The youth pastor hurried through the front into the aisle, having to keep himself from just running to the door. For whatever reason, hearing how afraid the Hell creature was of the place was upsetting something inside him. He didn't like it one bit.

Once he got the front doors open, the demon sped out. He flew across the street, turning back to glare and hiss at the building, his barbed tail lashing. Craig followed him after shutting the doors behind him and locking them. It was late, and the sun had long since set, leaving the two only the light of the moon and stars to see each other. The town didn't have streetlights this far from the business area of South Park.

He stood beside the demon, hands slipping into his pants pockets. His left hand curled around his phone, and he tapped the screen a few times lightly, wondering if he should call someone. Then again, who was he supposed to call? Father Maxi? No way in, well, Hell, was he calling the Father to come and help him.

"What's your name?" he asked, getting tired of thinking of him as 'demon'. "Do you have one?"

"I had one." The answer was not what Craig had expected. As though sensing his thoughts, the demon let out a breath, a cloud of white filling the air around them, bringing Craig's attention to the fact that it was fucking cold in the perpetually snow-covered town, and he hadn't grabbed his coat. "When I was a human. I had a name then."

"Which was?" the pastor pressed, rubbing his arms lightly. He could feel his ears freezing already, and not for the first time lamented the fact that he had lost his favorite hat some years ago. It had just disappeared one day, and being the stubborn person he was, Craig had refused to replace it, telling his mother if it wasn't that one, he didn't want any.

"I... don't remember," the demon sighed, running his hand through his hair. Or rather, grabbing a handful of the blonde locks and tugging on them harshly. Without a second thought, Craig reached out and pulled his hand away, but didn't let go once he'd achieved his goal. The other was warm, almost like a space heater, and Craig used this to explain why he found holding the Hell creature's hand so... comfortable.

"Well, I can't just keep calling you 'demon' or 'Hell creature', can I?" he reasoned.

The creature stared at their joined fingers, then turned away, yanking his hand free. "Sure you can, just like I plan to keep calling you 'human'."

"Craig."

Green met blue as he spun back around. "Excuse me?"

"Craig. That's my name. Call me Craig."

The demon frowned. "Fine, _Craig_. If we're going to be specific, I'm not a demon. I'm an imp."

"So, I guess I'll call you 'Imp' then. At least until I have a proper name for you."

The newly dubbed 'Imp' rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Call me whatever you want. I'm not staying here for long."

"Got some place pressing to be?"

"... shut up."

Craig's lips twitched up into a slight smile. "Fine." He looked the other up and down. "Are you cold?"

Imp shook his head. "No, I'm never cold."

"I am. I'm going home. Come with me."

The creature glared at him suspiciously. "Why are you being so nice to me, _Craig_?" he demanded, spitting out his name like acid. "I would've, and could've, killed you just as easily as I did the others. You're part of that." He guested towards the church. "Why is a member of that being good to me?"

With a shrug, Craig pulled out his phone, clicking the home button to lit the screen. "Because as a pastor it's my job to be good to everyone, no matter who they are," he reasoned, checking to see if he had any messages and the time. Hmm, it was pretty late, he must have been in that stupid back room for a few hours. His sister had sent him a text, too.

Imp tilted his head, quirking an eyebrow at the youth pastor. "Says the guy who gave up ten people to me not twenty minutes ago," he muttered.

"Eh, my patience has its limits. Firkle's been at the end for a while now, and I have no idea who the other dicks were, so I don't care about them." Craig stowed his phone away once more, and grabbed Imp's hand for the second time. "Come on, my sister wants me to come home. I told her I'm bringing a guest; don't make me a liar."

Imp frowned but didn't pull away this time, allowing himself to be dragged down the street behind the young man. "She won't think it's weird you have an imp with you?" he asked. "I'm not invisible, you know. You aren't in a movie were you're the Chosen One and the only person who can see me."

Craig paused, glancing over his shoulder at the blonde. "That's true. Can't you change how you look? Like, lose the horns, tail, wings, teeth... and do something about your legs?" he asked, eyeing him up and down. "I don't care how you look, I doubt Tricia will either because we've seen some weird shit in this town one to many times for someone who looks like you to phase us, but I suppose I should worry about my dad. If he asks, you're a homeless youth looking for a place to stay the night and the heating is broken in the church so I brought you with me."

Taking in this information, Imp ventured another question. "You still live with your parents?"

"Dad technically lives with me. Tricia is still in high school, and mom is in Florida. Once Tricia graduates, dad and her will move down with mom. They already gave the house to me, since I'm out of school and I work here, there was no point in my living anywhere else," he explained, starting to walk again. "So, while I can bring home whoever I want, dad still likes to question everything I do. I'm actually looking forward to them all leaving, then I'll have peace and quiet."

"I see."

Craig didn't look back again, but he felt when the other shifted his appearance. His wings must have been the first to go, as soon after, he felt a heavier weight resisting his pull slightly, and heard the clicks of hooves on the snowy sidewalk. Not long after this was replaced by the soft tread of shoes. He hoped he would have pants on when they got to his house.

They turned onto his street and arrived on the porch of the brown, two story house a few minutes later. Craig took out his key, unlocking the door and stepping inside, letting go of Imp's hand. He felt strangely cold at the loss of contact, but pushed past it, calling into the house that he was back, letting the warmth of the place wash over him. He rubbed at his ears and stomped his feet to return the feeling to them faster.

He received an annoyed grunt and a yelled hello in response. Entering the front room which was a combined living and dining room, Craig found his father sitting at the dinner table by the far wall, reading a newspaper. The man was clearly a giant, even when seated. He had a thick frame, likely a mixture of muscle from sports in his younger days and years of eating food that probably wasn't the healthiest. He had red hair, unlike Craig's black, and it was thinning in a circle around the top, leaving a little poof of color on the crown of his head.

The red headed man glanced up at them as the front door shut, his eyes lingering on the imp for a moment before dropping back down to the page in front of him, shuffling them together lightly.

"I see you brought a friend," he said without looking at them. "My name's Thomas."

"Uh... Hi." Imp left his sentence there, having nothing else to say to Craig's father.

"He's staying with us for the night," Craig announced before any silence, either awkward or tense, could form. "He showed up at the church for a place to stay, but the heating is broken so I brought him with me." He turned for the first time to look at Imp, and was startled by how much shorter than him the Hell creature was. The top of Imp's head only came up to his shoulder. He was relieved to see transforming his legs to look normal had given him pants at least. One less awkward thing to have to explain.

"Hm. Does Mystery Guest have a name?" a new voice asked from the kitchen. A girl walked into view, looking far more like Thomas than Craig did, her hair a strawberry blonde, tied up into pigtails on either side of her head. She was also tall, though not quite the height of her brother, her eyes about level with his chin. She leaned against the doorway, looking their visitor up and down. "Wow. I didn't expect a major hottie, Craig. Why do you always leave out the most interesting parts? Is this one yours?"

Craig blinked, then flushed darkly when he realized what his sister meant. "Tricia! It's not like that-" he argued, but was cut off by his father.

"I didn't know you swung that way, son. Doesn't change the fact that you need to use protection, though. Always wrap it before you tap it," Thomas said, no inflection in his tone.

Now Imp blushed, making a strange grunting sound.

"Dad! Tricia! It's not like that!" Craig practically screeched. He could remember easily the last time he had wanted to die as badly as he did now. It was never. He had never wanted to end his existence as much as he did in that moment.

Thomas let out a disbelieving humph. "No judgement, son. We still love you no matter what. I'll keep it a secret for you, as I don't know how Father Maxi would feel about a gay man teaching in his church."

Craig threw his hands into the air, exasperated. Giving into the knowledge he would never win the argument, he stomped past the two, leading Imp to the kitchen. "Whatever. I hate you both. What's for dinner?"

Tricia had made spaghetti for the family, it being easy and fast. She mentioned multiple times during their meal how smart she had been making dinner, seeing as it had been so easy to throw more pasta into the pot to feed their surprise guest.

Imp was quiet for the most part, but Craig found himself watching the other. For a creature from Hell, he sure didn't seem all that bad. Imp had mentioned that he'd been human at some point, how long ago was that? What kind of person had he been? How had he ended up in Hell?

Once they had finished eating, Craig washed the dishes, finding that doing menial tasks were a joy to him. Likely something to do with the boringness of them. Imp stood beside him, having elected to stay close to the youth pastor over talking with Craig's strange family who had major interest in him.

"Probably should have come up with a name to give them for you," Craig said casually. "Didn't think it through all the way."

"I get the feeling you don't think a lot of things through," Imp answered, earning a laugh from the other.

"I can't say you're wrong. I'm not known for being rational."

"That is the impression I got."

They fell into a comfortable silence, the only sound the scrubbing of the brush over the dishes and the occasional hum of the faucet. As he was setting the last dish into the rack to dry, Tricia poked her head into the room.

"So, where is Misty staying?" she asked.

"Who the fuck is 'Misty'?" Craig rolled his eyes at his sister from his spot, having a guess as to who she meant. It didn't make it any less stupid though.

"Him. Mystery Guest. I'm calling him Misty until he gives me something else," the girl answered, raising her hand to flip off her brother's back. "I thought it was obvious."

He returned the gesture without looking, feeling the presence of the infamous Tucker sign like a sixth sense. "It was, I just thought you would have a bit more creativity."

"And I thought you would come out of your closet with a better fashion sense. Looks like we're both disappointed."

Craig spun around, ready to fight his sister for her comments, but Tricia had already retreated. Her laughter echoed from the living room into the kitchen, and he groaned, rubbing his face with his damp hands.

"I suppose it's still a valid question," Imp put in. "You forced me to come all the way here, so tell me where I'm being put for the night."

"You can stay in my room. I'll sleep on the couch," the exasperated man sighed. "You might want to lock the door too, or Tricia will come in to bother you. She doesn't always respect people's boundaries."

"I find myself entirely unsurprised to hear that." Raising his arms over his head, the blonde stretched until his shoulders and elbows popped loudly. He sighed in satisfaction, letting them drop back down to his sides. "I hate to break up the party, _Craig_ ," he said, his tone mocking, "but being pulled from Hell is actually a pretty tiring experience, as is shape shifting. If you don't mind, I'd like to rest."

Had it been anyone else, Craig was convinced he would have either thrown them out or kicked their ass. But, hearing Imp tease him made his chest fill with an unusual warmth, almost like amusement, and he was quickly coming to enjoy the sensation.

"Sure. Just go upstairs, first door on the right." He watched his guest go, then returned his attention to the sink full of warm, soapy water. As he pulled out the plug and began to wipe down the counters, his thoughts wandered to his day.

It had started off normally enough, getting up a bit too late to prepare himself fully for the day, yet still too early for his liking. He'd showered, dressed, and stopped by the local coffee shop. He didn't like to go to Tweek Bros. if he could avoid it. He didn't know why, but something about the place always felt... off. Like something important was missing, but for the life of him Craig couldn't tell what it was. Not to mention the coffee from that place always made him feel shaky and it took him a while to calm back down. Maybe they just had to much caffeine in their drinks. Regardless, he had then gone to the church and been in his office doing paperwork until lunch when he had been invited by Father Maxi to eat at City Wok and discuss possible improvements to their teaching methods. Father Maxi relied too much on scaring the shit out of people for Craig's taste, while the youth pastor was too lenient for Father Maxi.

Father Maxi had left before him to go to the post office, and Craig had returned to the church on his own. Entering the building, he'd discovered a group of teens sitting together in the pews murmuring to one another. While not a common occurrence, it happened often enough that Craig hadn't thought twice on it. He'd offered a simple greeting, gaining a few in return before he went into his office. Firkle, that dead son of a bitch, had been the one to run into his office yelling that they needed help. He'd gotten up and followed him, and the last thing he remembered before waking up in the back room was a sharp pain stabbing into his arm.

He looked down at his arm, pushing his sleeve up to inspect the area. Craig could see the puncture wound and huffed in annoyance. Whatever, he was out and alive now while all those motherfuckers were burning for eternity.

He left the kitchen, heading to the living room where his sister and father were lounging. He dropped himself onto the couch, splayed out across its length, pressing his cheek into the cushion.

"What's the matter, Craig?" Tricia asked, glancing up from one of her textbooks. She was sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table, homework spread out all around her. Thomas was in the armchair off to the side, scrolling through sport feeds on his phone.

"Nothing. Just tired. It's been a long, weird day," he croaked, feeling the exhaustion settle over him like a blanket. "Could use some sleep."

"Then go to your room and sleep," Tricia retorted, rolling her eyes. "I think I saw Misty go up just a bit ago. I'm sure he could help you at least relax."

Not having enough energy left to yell at her, Craig lifted his finger to his sister, letting that speak for him.

"Just don't be too loud," Thomas suddenly added. "I need to get up early for work in the morning and Tricia has school."

As quickly as his tiredness had come, it vanished as Craig leapt off the couch, spluttering indignantly. "For the hundredth time, I'm not gay!"

"Nothing wrong with being gay," his father replied sagely.

"I never said there was!"

"Oh, shut up and go cuddle your mystery boyfriend," Tricia finally snapped. "I need to finish this homework before tomorrow and that's not going to happen if you don't quit your bitching."

Red faced and mortified, Craig stomped to the staircase and started up. "I'm not fucking gay, and I swear to God if I hear it one more time-!"

"Seems rather blasphemous for you to be using the Lord's name in that manner," Thomas cut in, giving his son a sly smile.

"Gah! You two drive me crazy! Move out of my damn house already!" Craig spat before running up the last few steps. Turning his attention to his bedroom door, he strolled to it purposefully, grabbing the knob and twisting it harshly to alert Imp to his presence before swinging the door open. He entered and slammed it behind him as hard as he could, his gaze on the purple carpeted floor.

He leaned back against the wood, rubbing his eyes in frustration.

"What's your problem?" Imp's voice asked, filtering through the fog of irritation that has built itself up in Craig's mind. He sighed and looked up, his eyes nearly popping out of his head.

Imp was laying across his bed in a pair of Craig's old pajama pants, which were far to long for him, with no shirt, and Craig's pet guinea pig sleeping lightly on his bare chest. He quickly turned away, red coating his face once more. He wasn't fond of how often that seemed to be happening today.

"What are you doing with Stripe?" he retaliated, choosing to ignore Imp's question in favor of his own. Stripe didn't let anyone but Craig touch him, not even Tricia. No one had ever been able to hold the little fluff ball. It seemed strange to him that of all the other people in the world, the second being Stripe allowed close was literally a spawn of Hell.

The creature scoffed and sat up, cupping the tiny animal against his chest to keep him from falling. "He kept making this weird sound at me. I opened the cage and he jumped into my hands. When I put him down on your bed, he started jumping all over the place."

"He popcorned for you?" Craig stepped closer, lightly rubbing the guinea pig's fur. "He doesn't do that very often, not even for me."

"I don't know, dude, I just watched him until he stopped and he started making that sound at me again. I put my hand out and he crawled onto it and nuzzled me," Imp huffed, carefully passing the pet over.

"Wheeking. It's called wheeking. Guinea pigs do it for a few reasons, but it's most likely he was doing it because he wanted attention."

"Whatever it was, it was cute. That's the only reason I didn't do anything to shut him up."

Before Imp knew what was happening, he found himself forced backwards onto Craig's bed, the other kneeling over him with sparkling eyes. "You think Stripe is cute?" he demanded, holding the small creature in his cupped hands. "You do, right?"

"Uh... yeah?" Imp's eyes shot side to side as he tried to think of how to wiggle out of this awkward position. "Did you want me to lie?"

Craig watched him for a moment, then got up, adding over his shoulder, "You keep complimenting Stripe and I might go for real gay." Realizing to late the words that had come out of his mouth, Craig quickly went over Stripe's cage, placing his pet back inside to avoid looking at his guest.

"For real gay, huh?" Imp finally repeated, breaking the embarrassed silence.

Craig had never been happier that he had mastered blank facing in his childhood. Turning to the other, he approached again, pulling off his loose tie and tossing it on the floor, forgoing his own pajamas. Ignoring Imp's squeaked protests, he crawled into the bed beside him, forcing the blonde to shift closer to the window.

"W-What the hell do you think you're doing?" Imp snapped, struggling to look more angry than surprised, but failing.

Craig put up a hand, covering Imp's mouth. "Shh. No words. Only dreams." He then laid down and turned his back to the other, shutting his eyes. He listened to Imp splutter on for a few more minutes before giving up and shifting, laying down beside him, facing the wall.

Biting his lip, Craig willed sleep to come to him. Today had been more than he was willing to deal with. He liked things nice and boring, and this situation was far from his preference.

Peculiarly, he found he didn't mind as much as he thought he would.


	2. Connections

The next morning, Craig found himself tangled up in his blankets and the limbs of his guest. He turned his head to look at the other, pausing to really take in his features.

Imp's hair appeared extremely soft, and though it stuck up all over his head as if he'd been electrocuted, Craig found himself having to suppress the urge to reach out and run his fingers through the blonde locks. Imp's face was a bit chubbier than he had expected, but he supposed flying and other evil powers burned a lot of energy. He had eaten an awful lot the night before. As these thoughts idled through his mind, he continued his inspection.

The Hell creature seemed surprisingly peaceful, laying at his side. At some point in the night, he had turned to face Craig, and his knees were now pulled up close to his chest. Craig's eyes wandered back to Imp's face, taking in the dark bags under his. What could it be that made him look so tired? Did sleep not exist in Hell? Was what he was currently seeing actually a rare occurrence?

At this question, Craig reached behind him, feeling around until his fingers closed around his phone. He pulled up the camera and quickly snapped a picture of Imp's sleeping form. For some reason, his heart felt like it was speeding up a bit as he watched the other. Not wanting to be caught being creepy, Craig forced himself to get up, moving as slowly as he could to avoid jostling and waking Imp.

He sighed softly, looking down at his rumpled shirt and pants. Grabbing a fresh outfit from his closet and undergarments from his dresser, he went out into the hall and walked the short distance to the bathroom. His father and sister were already gone for the day, and he needed to get a move on and get to work or he'd be late.

Stepping to the shower, Craig's thoughts wandered to his guest for the second time that morning. He had so many questions for him still that Imp wouldn't be able to answer just because he himself didn't know. Which made Craig wonder just how long he had been an imp. When had he been changed into one? How had he been changed? Was there a way to undo it? What would happen if he did become human again? For the first time in his life, Craig wished the Devil's son, Damien, would come visit the town. He could probably give them all the answers they wanted.

Once he was clean, shaved, and dressed properly for his day, Craig headed downstairs to the kitchen. Deciding he felt lazy, he made a bowl of cereal, leaning against the counter to eat his crunchy creation. He glanced at the time, 8:32, and sighed. He heard footsteps on the stairs, and looked up as Imp got to the bottom floor. He was rubbing his messy hair and yawning. Craig noted the sharpness of his teeth, though they weren't the jagged terror from the day before.

Imp padded up to him, taking the half-eaten bowl from the youth pastor's hands and beginning to munch on it, walking away to sit at the table. Craig snorted in amusement, accepting the loss of his breakfast. He turned on the coffee maker, figuring he had enough time to quickly make a cup before needing to go. Besides, it seemed Imp could use some caffeine.

"What are your plans for the day?" he called over, opening a cupboard to pull out two mugs then going to the fridge to get creamer.

"I don't know, maybe explore a bit and see what I can mess up for people," Imp answered, polishing off the cereal quickly. "I do have a job on this plane, after all."

"Fair." Craig approached, a mug in each hand. "Here. It's coffee, it should help wake you up. I don't know how you'd like it, but you can add cream and sugar to it so it doesn't taste bitter." He handed the other a cup of black coffee, his own already sweetened.

Imp looked at the liquid suspiciously, glaring at his reflection.

"I have to get going. Try not to make the town too much of a mess." Quickly downing the hot beverage, Craig set the empty cup in the sink, pulled on his shoes, then headed out, leaving Imp behind. He realized this was a potentially bad idea; he knew next to nothing about Imp, and he had no clue what all the other was capable of.

He supposed he didn't have time to worry about it. He was going to be late.

* * *

Craig was surprised when he arrived home that that day for a few reasons, the first being that the house was still standing and didn't look any different than it had when he'd left that morning. The second was that he seemed to be the first one home, though it was nearing five o'clock. Tricia likely had gone to a friend's house, and maybe Thomas had stopped by Skeeter's bar? For whatever reason, they weren't home, leaving Craig to discover alone what had become of his fiendish guest.

Going to the door, he found it unlocked as he had left it that morning. Hoping Imp hadn't taken off and left the place vulnerable, he finally stepped inside. He was greeted immediately by a shaking ball of pure energy smashing into him, knocking the youth pastor into the (thankfully) closed door.

" _Craig_ , you're back!" Imp shrieked, grabbing his arms tightly and jerking him around. "I was getting worried! I was starting to think no one was going to come back and I'd be alone and have to figure out how to run a human house on my own, and then I'd have to figure out how to find you all again and I just don't think I could handle that kind of pressure!"

Craig took a second to process the words being flung at him, then he gently set his hands on Imp's shoulders and pushed him lightly back. "Imp, how much coffee did you have today?" he asked, noticing the thick scent in the air.

"I DON'T KNOW! A LOT!" Yanking himself away, Imp sprinted into the kitchen, returning shortly with a fresh mug of the stuff. "It's the best thing I've ever had in my entire life! At least, as far as I can remember! You're out of it, by the way, there is no more of the brown powder!"

Craig went into the kitchen, and was glad to see that at least Imp hadn't gotten a new cup for each serving. He looked over the empty containers of coffee of the counter, letting out a soft sigh. That particular kind hadn't been cheap, but he guessed it was worth it since Imp was so... enamored by the stuff.

He picked up the containers and opened the trash can to throw them out, and noticed a distinct lack of grounds in the filters that littered the bottom of the bag. "Hey, Imp?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder at the other, who had followed behind him. "What did you do with the grounds that were in the filters?"

"Oh! Once they stopped making the coffee, I ate them."

Craig sucked in a deep breath, fighting the mixture of amusement and worry that suddenly bloomed in his chest. "Okay. For future reference, don't eat the grounds. Just throw them away with the filter."

Imp nodded enthusiastically, chugging a few gulps from his mug.

"I guess that's all. I don't think you'll sleep tonight," Craig added, returning to the living room, heading towards the front door.

"Where are you going?!" Imp demanded, hot on his heels.

"I need to go get more coffee before dad comes home. He loves the stuff and basically needs it in the mornings to not kill anyone." He side-eyed him a moment before he asked if he would like to go with him. The Hell creature nodded enthusiastically.

Craig opened the front door, letting Imp out. He stepped onto the porch and locked the door, then buried his hands into his pockets. In the short time since he had gotten home, it had begun to snow. Perfect, just perfect.

As Imp ran circles around him, the youth pastor led the way towards Food 4 Little, the closest grocery store to his house.

"Look, Imp, I know you're hopped up on caffeine right now, but I need you to chill out a bit or someone is going to think you're on drugs." Seeing the other open his mouth, he continued quickly, "I know technically caffeine is a drug, I mean an illegal one. Don't be a dick."

Imp grinned at him, a hit of mischief in his eyes, but after a few more twitches, he settled into relative calmness at Craig's side. They continued on in relative peace, the only annoyance now being the biting wind that whipped at their exposed flesh. Imp didn't seem to mind, the damned Hell creature. Curious if he was as warm now as the day before, Craig reached out and grabbed Imp's hand, making the other gasp in surprise at the cold touch.

Imp's hand was indeed still like a small heater, and the warmth from the other spread into his hand and up his arm, distributing throughout his body. Craig stopped dead, making the other bump into him, sending a delightful shock of warmth through him.

Before Imp could demand to know what his problem was, Craig yanked Imp up onto his back, securing his arms under Imp's legs to hold him in place. The imp squealed, instinctively wrapping his arms around Craig's neck. "What are you doing?!"

"You're warm, I'm cold. Shut up and be a heater for a bit," he answered blandly, continuing to walk as if he didn't have a fully-grown being hanging off of him. To be honest, Imp was not as heavy as Craig had expected him to be. Must be the imp-ness.

"You suck, _Craig_ ," Imp whined, though he didn't struggle or attempt to get down.

"Why do you say my name like that?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder at his new, personal heater.

"Like what?"

" _That_."

"Oh. I told you yesterday, I was just going to call you 'human', but you told me your name anyway. I am simply using it and being spiteful at the same time," Imp said nonchalantly.

Craig snorted at this, shaking his head slightly. "I suppose that just comes with being a Hellion."

"I would suppose you're right."

A comfortable silence fell between them, the only sound the soft crunch of snow under Craig's shoes as he made his way down the street. As they neared the shopping district, a thought occurred to the pastor.

"Hey, is there a way to help you get your memories back? Did something make you lose them, or has it just been so long since you've been human that you just forgot?" he asked.

Imp sighed heavily, dropping his head onto Craig's shoulder. "I don't know, honestly. It possible that both are the answer. I don't know how long I've been an imp, but I know all imps are originally human. I have no memories from before waking up in Hell, and I have no clue how to go about finding out how to get them back."

"Hmm. I'll talk to a... coworker and see what I can come up with."

"You're going to tell your boss that some kids summoned an imp in his church?"

"I wasn't thinking of Father Maxi," Craig murmured. "Don't worry, I won't let anyone who could hurt you know you're here. I just want to help, and I think I know the perfect guy for the job."

"You can do whatever you want, I don't care." He tried to sound uninterested, but Craig could hear the note of excitement in his voice. It could have been the caffeine, but he got the feeling it was genuine.

Craig decided this would be his top priority from then until Imp had his memories back. After getting more coffee, about three times more than he usually bought, and returning home, he went into his father's old office, which was now his. He thought idly that maybe leaving Imp alone with Tricia and his father wasn't the greatest idea, but he had some research to do.

He logged onto his computer and turned on what Tricia had dubbed his "work playlist", which only consisted of one band. He played it when he needed to focus. Not because it was good, but because it motivated him to work faster so he could turn it off. As the myrrh-winning album began, Craig gritted his teeth, the horribly familiar sound of **_Faith +1_** issuing through the speakers.

The only enjoyable part of the terrible songs were the sweet base lines his good friend Token Black came up with for each song. Butters Stotch's drumming was pretty great too. Alright, honestly, the only thing that made the band suck as much dick as it did was the unfortunate third, and leading, member: Eric Cartman. That asshole ruined everything he touched, and it was with no little satisfaction that Craig recalled Token kicking the shit out of Cartman on a giant stage in front of thousands of people.

Soon enough, he was pulled from his happy memories by a grating voice that ripped through his brain. With a groan, he forced himself to focus, opening a browser and setting to work.

From outside the room in the hall, Imp was listening, confused as to what the other was doing. He could hear what sounded like a million little clicks, followed by tapping, then long stretches of silence. He reached for the doorknob to investigate, but his arm was caught by Tricia.

"Let him be, Misty. He's working," she said, pulling the other behind her downstairs. "He gets like this sometimes. It's best to just let him work until he feels he's done, it makes everything easier. He'll just keep going back, no matter how much we pull him away."

"How long will he do this?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder back towards Craig's office.

"It depends on what he's trying to do." She shrugged, then flopped onto the couch, her legs dangling over the armrest. "The longest I've ever seen him go when he's in one of his moods was three days."

Imp felt strangely annoyed at this information. "What am I supposed to do for three days?"

Tricia smiled, and patted the cushion beside her. "You can hang out with me. Regardless what Craig says, I'm totally cool. He's just mad since he was a nerd and never got a girlfriend." After looking over Imp critically for a moment, she grinned playfully. "Or a boyfriend."

"I'm not gay," he told the girl, sinking onto the seat beside her.

"You want me to prove it to you?" The challenge in Tricia's voice caught his attention more than her actual words.

"What do you mean?" he asked slowly, shifting away from her slightly. He couldn't explain it, but something about her current behavior was making him uncomfortable, and he wanted to stand and leave. But where exactly was he going to go?

Unfortunately for Imp, this distraction was more than enough for the teenager to make good on her threat.

Her arms shot out, wrapping around Imp's neck and yanking him to her, smashing their lips together. Imp's eyes widened and he struggled to escape her hold. When Tricia tried to run her fingers through his hair, he jumped to his feet, throwing her to the ground. He scrambled away from her, scrubbing his lips with his nails.

"What the fuck, Tricia!?" he screeched, his eyes changing from wide and scared to narrowed and furious.

"Did you enjoy that?" she asked, looking up at him from the ground where she had landed on her back. She crossed her arms and a slight smile played on her lips. "At all? Not so much me forcing you to kiss me, but the idea of kissing me? Or any girl, for that matter?"

"No! Of course not, why would I ever want to do that?" Imp demanded, incredulous. What even was this girl's logic?

"What if it had been my brother?"

Immediately, Imp's mouth snapped shut and red coated his cheeks. What if Craig had just... pulled him into a kiss like that? For some reason, rather than the anger and discomfort he felt from Tricia doing just that, thinking of the youth pastor made him... happy?

As realization dawned on his face, Tricia smiled, then shot finger guns at him. "Boom. There it is."

"Well, fuck," Imp huffed under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It's never going to happen anyway, Tricia. Don't make me think about it so it can die fast. Less misery for me."

"Look, my brother can be a real fuck boy at times, but I promise he's a good person." She sat up, and pulled herself back up onto the couch. "I know he says he isn't gay, but we've all known he was since he was ten. I figured it out when I was five. _Five_ , and I figured out he was gay before he did. It's really just sad at this point." Tricia patted the seat beside her again, and Imp sat cautiously, ready to jump away should she come at him again.

"I don't know why, Misty, but I feel like you're perfect for him. I can see already the impact you've had on him, and it's been good. I've never seen him do something as selfless as offer to give up his room, he's way too protective of his stuff to do that, mostly because Stripe is in there and he loves that guinea pig more than his own life."

"I'm not a good person, Tricia. I don't know how I tricked you into thinking that, but I'm telling you now, I am the worst thing to ever happen to your brother." He looked down at his hands, playing with his fingers. "How we met was definitely not a precursor to a solid relationship. It's an unstable foundation."

Tricia put a hand on his shoulder, making him flinch at the unexpected gesture. "Misty... I don't know what brought you to needing the church's homeless shelter, but it's not your fault." It took Imp a moment to figure out what she was talking about, then remembered the lie Craig had told for his presence. Guilt formed in his chest as he realized his relationship with all of the Tucker clan was founded on either cult activity, or lies. Lovely.

"I'm not going to ask what happened," she continued, not picking up on his mood shift, "it's none of my business and I don't want to force you to relive a bad experience. Just know that, if you ever do need to talk, I'm here for you. I know better than most people how useful it is to talk to Craig, but he doesn't always have the answers. I may be younger, but when it comes to emotions and feelings, I'm your girl." She grabbed his hand in both of hers, staring hard into his eyes.

Silence fell between the two, Imp considering pulling his hand away, and Tricia attempting to prove how serious she was. It was the arrival of Thomas Tucker that broke them apart. He looked between his daughter and Imp, one eyebrow raised slightly. "Hm. Playing for both teams?" he asked. There was no judgment in his voice. In fact, he didn't even sound interested in the answer to his question.

Tricia laughed and hopped over the back of the couch, running over and hugging the man in greeting. "Don't worry, dad. Misty is totally gay, completely interested in Craig, and I'm going to help them get together," she declared.

The corners of Thomas' mouth quirked up, and he patted the top of her head fondly, making her hair bounce slightly. "Good luck."

"Thanks!" Tricia left the two, heading up to her room. Thomas went to his recliner and flipped on the television. The news began, but Thomas was watching Imp over the broadcast. Imp glanced around the room in favor of meeting his gaze.

"Will you treat my boy well?"

Imp jumped, the question taking him by surprise. "Huh?"

"Craig. Will you be good to him?"

"I mean..." Imp turned to look at Thomas as he spoke. "I'll be the best I can be. If he's even interested."

"He's interested." The certainty in his voice peeked Imp's curiosity.

"How do you know?" he asked, settling back into the couch and crossing his arms.

Thomas raised an eyebrow. "He's my kid. I raised him, I know how to read him. Trust me, he's interested. He just doesn't want to admit it to himself. It's not that he minds gay people. Honestly, for how red-neck, white trash this town is, it's very accepting of different lifestyles. No, with Craig, it's more him thinking along the lines of 'I don't have time to do feelings like that, so they don't exist'."

This interested the imp, and he nodded. "I see. Is there a way to make him realize it, or does he just have to figure it out?"

"I'm sure you could help him along. Where is he, anyway?"

"The office. He's listening to some shit Christian band," Imp said, glancing back at the steps. He still wanted to go up and disturb the other. He was bored, and Craig seemed to be the only thing capable of relieving him. The sound of the news caught his attention, and he turned to watch as music signaled a breaking news bulletin.

" _Breaking news_ ," the caster announced. " _Is there a serial killer loose in the small Colorado town of South Park? Police are saying, 'Yes, yes there is!', and they have shared with us some of their information._ " He turned towards a red-haired man with a mustache, and a name appeared under the guest: Sergent Harrison Yates.

" _Thanks for having me, Tom,_ " the man said, then launched into his speech without waiting for a response. " _Citizens, I'm sorry to report to you all that ten bodies have been discovered in the backroom of the Catholic church._ "

Imp's eyes widened, and he felt Thomas stiffen a few feet away.

" _We have no leads, and no idea what happened. None of the victims have injuries, internal or external. It appears they all just dropped dead. If it weren't for the fear on their faces, we would have chalked it up to natural causes. Be warned, the pictures we're about to show are graphic and shouldn't be viewed by those with weak stomachs or children._ "

Beside him, Tom the news anchor seemed miffed that the Sergent had taken over, but he nodded to someone off screen, and the image changed. Onto the screen, the familiar backroom of the church appeared. Apparently, Craig hadn't gone back in to clean it up, so the cult's set up was still there. The giant cross the pastor had been tied to was visible in the back of the shot as well. The only change that had occurred was the movement of the bodies the two had left behind. The teens were now laid out in the center under white sheets. Across the screen, a close up photo of ever face popped up. Each was frozen in terror, eyes wide, mouths open in silent screams.

Yates returned and began to talk once more. " _If you recognize any of these people, please call the number below. More importantly, if you have any information on what happened here, come forward. As great as the SPD is, even we can't do miracles. We need help._ "

" _Thanks, Sergent. Onto other news-_ " Imp stood up, no longer interested in what he was saying. He rushed upstairs and slammed his way into Craig's office. The man was surprised to be interrupted, and he paused his music, turning to look at the intruder. Seeing Imp, Craig got to his feet.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Turn on the news."

Curious, Craig sat back down and opened a new tab, typing quickly and bringing up the clip Imp had just watched. His face remained neutral, and at the end, he closed the page. "I would say don't worry about it."

"Don't worry about it?!" Imp hissed. He shut the door, then stomped over to Craig, spinning his chair around and forcing the other to face him. He grabbed the arms and leaned in, trapping him in his seat. " _Craig_ , you think I care about this for me? I don't give a shit about those people; you humans can't do anything to me. I'm worried about you, you dumb fuck!"

Craig blinked, startled by the fierceness.

"That's _your_ work place! Did you forget that? You're going to look suspicious! Especially when they figure out you were the last one in the building the night they all died! Don't just sit here listening to music that makes me want to cut off my ears!"

"Whoa, whoa, dude." Craig put his hands up, resting his palms lightly on Imp's shoulders. "Take a few deep breaths. Everything is fine, I've already come up with a plan if the police come to me."

"Yeah, and what's that?"

"I'll just tell them they tried to sacrifice me. They accidentally summoned a creature from Hell and it killed them."

Imp stared at the other, unsure if the pastor was fucking with him or not. "...really," he finally said, his tone flat, clearly relaying his disbelief.

He received a nod in return. "Yeah. I've been telling you, Imp, this town is bat-shit insane. It's not impossible for that to happen, I mean it _did_ happen, so someone is going to believe me, and knowing how this town is, it'll likely pass as just an unfortunate incident with teenagers being stupid."

"And if they don't believe you?"

"They would. In the case of that not working, I know someone in town who can help me out. Question for you now."

"What?"

"Why do you think I need to be careful like I'll get caught lying? I'm going to literally tell them what happened, just leaving out that you're still here."

The Hell creature opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. Craig was right; he was going to tell the truth, what was he so worried about? More than that, why did he even give a shit in the first place? He crossed his arms and looked away from the other, now annoyed. "Sorry for caring, asshole," he snipped.

Craig smiled. "I appreciate the concern," he assured. Checking the time, he stretched his arms up over his head, his arms cracking at the joints as he stood up. "I know you're probably still hyped from all the coffee from earlier, but it's time for me to head to bed. You're welcome to hang out in here and use the computer if you want."

Imp didn't respond, choosing instead to throw himself into the newly vacated chair and spinning around in it. He crossed his arms, pouting at the swirling floor. Craig allowed himself to smile a bit more, feeling a strange fondness for the other as he watched.

"Good night, Imp."

"... Good night."

Leaving the room, Craig yawned, dragging his hands down his face. It had been a relatively long day, going from work to home and discovering a coffee-crazed Imp, the walk to the store carrying him (he couldn't help but blush lightly at the memory. Why had he been so insistent on that?), the conversation, and then torturing himself for a few hours with the annoying sound of Eric Cartman's shit singing.

He went into his room, heading towards his dresser to find some looser clothes to sleep in. The sound of a voice being cleared behind him caused Craig to jump in surprise and he whipped around to find his sister lounging on his bed.

"Fucking- Tricia, what are you doing in here?" he demanded. He didn't want to deal with his sister right now, he was too tired for that fuckery. The girl smiled, and Craig narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "... What do you want?" Tricia didn't smile like that unless she was plotting something.

"Did Misty tell you?" she asked, sitting up.

Assuming she mean the news about the church, he nodded. "Yeah, why?" Clearly this wasn't what she had expected his answer to be, her eyebrows shooting up.

"Really? And you just... don't care?" She sounded disbelieving, but he couldn't for the life of him imagine why. She had grown up with him, she knew pretty much nothing phased him.

"Not particularly." Turning back to his dresser, he pulled out sweatpants and an old t-shirt. "Can you take off? I want to go to bed." Hearing no movement, he sighed heavily and turned to face her, startled to find her glaring at him.

"I don't believe for one second that's true!" she snapped, getting up and marching towards him. She poked his chest hard. "For one, I know for a fact you care very much, and two, I don't care how little we act like we give a shit about one another, you would never be okay with me just putting the moves on a stranger you randomly brought home!"

This was followed by slight panting as Tricia got over her lecture, but Craig didn't know what to say, blinking down at his sister. Finally, he settled on the most prominent reply he could come up with.

"What the actual fuck are you talking about?"

It was then Tricia's turn to be confused. "What do you mean what am I talking about? You said he told you!"

"About the investigation about the church. What is all this about you being weird with a stranger? What did you do?"

Tricia blinked rapidly a few times, then snorted as the connection was made in her head. "Oooh," she murmured. "You where talking about... and I thought... Well, that makes a lot more sense."

"Glad to see you understand everything. Mind cluing me in?" he requested, miffed. This girl, honestly. What was he going to do with her? It was the flash of evil on her face that made him instantly nervous, but her words caused his stomach to knot in ways he didn't know were possible.

"I 'macked on Misty downstairs when you were in the office. Dad caught us."

For some reason, cold filled Craig's chest, and he shivered as though he was freezing. Imp had kissed her...? First off, why did he care about this? Imp could do whatever he wanted. But then... why did he feel like he'd been somehow betrayed?

Tricia patted his shoulder. "Don't worry, Craiggy," she cooed. "He was not the one to initiate, but was definitely the one to pull away. Just about as fast as he could. If it had been anyone else, I would have been insulted. But yeah, he's extremely gay, so you know. Get in there."

As red coated his cheeks and he spluttered a weak protest, she left. Now alone with his confusing thoughts and feelings, Craig changing and got into bed, throwing his arm over his eyes.

Why had the idea of Imp kissing someone hurt so much? Was it because it was Tricia? ... No, he got the feeling that wasn't the main issue. But what could it be? Why had his heart fluttered when Tricia had said Imp was gay? _He_ wasn't gay, so what did that matter? Ugh, this was too much thinking for so late at night. He peeked at his alarm clock, seeing it read 9:34 pm. Oh yeah, he was declaring it way too late to be dealing with bullshit of this magnitude. He had a busy day tomorrow, important people to talk too.

His strange burst of fear and anxiety gone, he rolled onto his side and pulled his comforter up over his head. He would think more about this after he'd gotten Imp some help.


	3. Old Friends

Going to work the following day, Craig had a plan. He had entirely forgotten about the news story from the day before and was surprised to see the place crawling with cops. Father Maxi was standing to the side by the line of pine trees. His face was pinched in displeasure, his arms crossed over his chest. Craig made his way over to him, greeting him evenly.

"Good morning, Father Maxi," he said, coming to a stop at his side.

"It is far from a 'good' morning, Craig," the priest replied hotly. "We can't even get in until we've been spoken to. Some crazy horse-hockey about the serial killer being one of us."

"We aren't the only people who go in and out of the church freely," Craig commented.

"No, but they don't care. We're the most likely, so we are barred from doing our sacred duties."

They turned their attention back to the scene, watching officers bringing the dogs around to sniff everything. When this brought up nothing, they began to look for fingerprints and DNA. Once they had gathered a few samples, taken pictures, and bagged everything, Sergent Yates approached.

"Alright, you two," he said. "Follow me, I have some questions that you need to answer."

Entering the church, Craig glanced around. For some reason, most of the pews had been turned over to be searched. He guessed that they needed to be thorough, but the pews were a bitch and a half to move. Couldn't they have set them back up at least?

They went into Father Maxi's office, the priest sitting down at his desk, then gesturing for Yates and Craig to take the chairs in front of him.

"Please, have a seat," he offered.

' _Damn, power move,_ ' the youth pastor though, forcing himself not to smile at the annoyance on Yates' face as they took the chairs.

"So, as you know, ten people were found dead here yesterday. Do you know anything about that?" Yates began, taking out his notepad and a pencil. "You two look mighty suspicious, and I'd hate to have to put a couple of holy men in jail."

"It was a cult," Craig answered as Father Maxi opened his mouth to reply. This got their attention, and they both turned to stare at him. "Yeah, it was a cult. They were trying to summon Satan or something. They tried to sacrifice me, but all they got was a little demon and it killed them then took off."

The silence that followed was thick enough to be cut with a butter knife. Father Maxi stared at him with his mouth partially open, and Yates began to scribble furiously, writing down everything Craig had said. He asked a few questions to get details, then stood awkwardly.

"Uh... good day, gentlemen," he mumbled, then left, barking orders at his men to gather their things and get back to the station. Once they were gone, Father Maxi had a few questions of his own.

"Where you ever going to mention this to me?"

"No. I forgot about them in that room, actually. I've had better things to think about," Craig answered flatly.

"Weren't those kids in your group?"

"They literally tried to get me killed. Sorry I don't feel sad about them all dying. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to ask someone a question." Craig left the office, leaving the flummoxed priest behind.

Craig went to the front of the church and knelt before the alter. Bowing his head and clasping his hands together, he began to pray.

"Hey, Jesus. Haven't seen you around in a while, but I have a question I could really use your advice on. If you could pop in and see me, I'd be so happy." He wondered idly what it would be like for someone from out of town to see him address the son of God in such a way, as if he was a friend who had just moved away. Honestly, that wasn't extremely far from the truth. Jesus had moved out of South Park and into the League of Super Best Friends to be closer if they needed him.

As he knelt, a hand lightly touched his hair, and he recognized the presence immediately.

"Craig Tucker. It has been quite a while, my son," Jesus' gentle voice addressed him.

Craig stood up, shaking his hand. "Thanks for coming. I have a problem."

"Indeed, you do. Having an imp around is a dangerous thing," Jesus agreed, his voice grave. "But I know why you've asked me here, and I do have an answer for you."

Hope filled Craig's chest, and a small smiled appeared on his face. "Really? There's a way to help Imp get his memories back?"

"Naturally. If you're lucky, it could even help him become human again. It all depends on him."

"What do I need to do?"

"Very little, if I'm honest. You can help him just by taking him around this town."

Craig' raised an eyebrow. "That's... That's it? Just take him around South Park? Why would that help him?"

Jesus smiled. "Because he's from here, of course."

What felt like a tidal wave of ice cold water crashed over the youth pastor, causing him to cross his arms tightly in a vain attempt to stay warm. "What do you mean he's from here? Imp isn't that old, he looks about my age. I would remember him if he was from here."

The man sighed and patted his arm. "I'm afraid dark energies aren't so kind. Yes, he is from here, but I know nothing else of him. It seems all trace of him was erased from this realm when he was pulled into Hell, however that unfortunate occurrence came to pass. My advice is take him around to see if it triggers any memories in him. But be careful. Because we don't know how he ended up in Hell, it could have terrible ramifications for someone to potentially see him and recall who he is."

Gulping, Craig nodded, now much less hopeful. Imp was... from South Park. They had likely grown up together, maybe even been friends. How could he have just forgotten a friend like that?

The rest of the day was spent in discomforted thought. If he needed to be careful with who saw Imp, what would be the best way to go about showing him around the town? He wrote out multiple lists of how to do it, trying to think of ways to have the smallest amount of interaction with other people as possible.

When his trash can was full, and his patience almost gone, Craig settled on his final plan. Until he had to write it down, he didn't realize how much random shit the tiny mountain town had, like damn, did they really need more than one grocery store?

To get to everything, it would take a couple hours. They would go out on Monday and stop at a few places, and end the night with breaking into the school, then stopping by the coffee shop for a warm drink before returning home. He figured since Imp liked coffee so much, maybe having it from a place that actually knew how to make it would help.

Reading over the list, he picked up the phone on his desk and dialed.

" _Kenny's Drug Stop, you got the pop,and I got the lock. What can I get for ya?_ "

Craig sighed. "You have to stop answering the phone like that," he said. "It's not funny, doesn't make sense, and could get you fired."

" _After everything I've done for this place, they'd be lost without me. Anyway, nice to hear from you, Tucker, it's been a while. What can I put you down for?_ " Kenny asked, his voice cheerful as Craig heard him picking up the notepad that was always by the phone of City Wok.

"Actually, I need your more illegal services."

" _Damn, and you're lecturing me on how to talk? Fine, what can I get you from the secret menu?_ "

"I need you to help me break into the elementary school tomorrow night. I... have a friend who needs to go there."

" _Right._ " He listened to the other scribble down whatever his code for breaking and entering was before Kenny spoke again. " _That all for you?_ "

"Yeah."

" _Cool. See you tomorrow. Since I consider you a friend and that lock is hardly a challenge, the price is five bucks and letting me meet this friend of yours._ "

"Deal."

They hung up without another word, and Craig stood, stretching. He tucked his work into his bag and slung it over his shoulder, then bent and pulled the bag from his trash can. After locking the door of his office and tossing out the trash in the dumpster, he headed home. He was glad the youth group meeting had been cancelled. He was far too distracted at the moment to want to bother with teaching kids about God and Jesus. In fact, he had entirely forgotten to even write a lesson plan for that night.

The walk home was blissfully short and peaceful. Entering the house, he was met by the other three. The first thing Craig noticed was Imp's slight vibrating. It seemed the Hell creature had drunk more coffee than he should have again. Setting his bag by the door and removing his shoes, he went into the kitchen, causally opening the trash to check it, relieved to see the thing full with a massive amount of coffee grounds. At least he hadn't eaten them again.

"How was work, Craig?" Tricia asked from her spot at the table, her homework spread out in front of her, Imp sitting close by and reading through her textbook with a confused look on his face.

"It was fine. The police came by, but they didn't stay long," he said, rummaging around the fridge. Hmm, what sounded good?

"Have they found out anything?" she pressed, her interest peeked.

"Yeah. It was a cult. They summoned something they shouldn't have and they all were killed." Ooo, was that chicken? Pulling it out and discovering it was indeed thawing chicken, he smiled and set to work, rolling up his sleeves. He put together the ingredients for a fry batter, then diced the chicken up into chunks, ignoring his father and Tricia as they fired a million questions at him.

Imp got up and moved to stand next to him, watching him work. "What are you making?"

"Tempura chicken. Tricia always calls it chicken pops." He smiled at the imp, and the other looked away with a light blush. The exchange did not go unnoticed by Tricia and Thomas, and they looked at one another knowingly.

Craig set a pot of oil on the stove, getting out a large serving plate and covering it with two paper towels. "Here, you can help me," he said softly to Imp, guiding him over. "Just look out for the oil, when it bubbles, it splashes and might burn you."

His blush growing, Imp simply nodded, standing at the counter just beside the pot, Craig behind him with his arms on either side, gently showing him what to do. Thomas got up and went upstairs, knowing if he stayed he would say something to ruin it. Tricia remained in place, watching with wide eyes. Never before had she seen her stoic brother do something so... _sweet_.

Craig himself didn't know why he was doing this either. If he was honest with himself, which he refused to be, he very much enjoyed being so close to Imp, feeling the other's warmth against his chest.

Together they dropped some of the batter-covered chicken into the pot, standing in silence as they waited the few minutes for it to be ready. The delicious smell soon filled the house and Imp's stomach rumbled.

"Did you eat today?" Craig murmured in his ear, making Imp blush harder.

"No, I didn't. I drank a container of coffee though," he admitted.

Craig smiled. "You can eat anything you want, you know. Don't worry about asking. This place is your home." The words fell so easily from him that Craig didn't realize what he'd said for a moment. It was true anyway. The longer he spent with the imp, the more he found himself craving his attention.

When the chicken was ready, they parted, but slowly, each lingering longer than they needed too. Unable to stand her brother's stubbornness, Tricia groaned and dropped her head onto the table with a loud thunk, getting the pair's attention.

"What's with you?" he asked, stepping away from Imp and grabbing a fork from the drawer beside him. He speared the chicken pieces, removing them from the oil and setting them on the paper towels to soak up the extra grease. Imp skittered away to the other side of the kitchen, and Craig felt his heart drop slightly. Did Imp not like how close they had been?

Tricia's voice pulled him back. "You are the stupidest gay man I have ever met in my entire goddamn life," she scolded, making him roll his eyes.

"That's an accomplishment, considering I'm not gay." Usually he would have put up more of a fight, but at the moment, he just couldn't bring himself too. Whether it was exhaustion from how often this topic seemed to come up, or having other things on his mind, Craig said nothing more to her pokes and prods.

Soon, dinner was ready, and the four ate together in silence. To call it awkward or uncomfortable would have been incorrect, but there was definitely something wrong, though none of them could say why. They ate quickly, then separated, Imp and Craig going upstairs to visit Stripe.

Imp laid on the floor, eye level with the fluffy animal, Craig settled in the chair at the desk. He wanted to speak with the other, they had a lot to go over, but for the moment, he felt as though he should not be the one to break the silence. Imp had an inquisitive look on his face, and Craig decided to sit back and wait for him to start.

Imp was silent until they heard the other Tuckers go into their rooms. When the doors closed, he sat up, scooping Stripe into his hands and sitting with his back against the bed, his eyes boring holes into Craig's.

"So... what happened at work?" he finally asked.

Just like that, all the tension that had unknowingly build, was released and Craig let out a sigh, smiling. He recounted his interaction with the police, getting a laugh out of the Hell creature. The cold that had settled in his body dispersed at the sound and he relaxed.

"Anyway, that should be dealt with at least for now." He got up from the chair, relocating himself to Imp's side, using his fingertips to ruffle Stripe's fur lightly. "Besides that, I met with someone today. The coworker I mentioned before."

"You never told me who it was," he pointed out.

"Yeah, well, that's because it was Jesus."

Imp's head snapped around, his eyes wide. " _ **WHAT!?**_ "

Craig slapped a hand over the Hell creature's mouth, holding his breath and listening for any movement on the other side of his door. When there was none, he dropped his hand. "Yes, I asked Jesus how I could help you," he continued as though nothing had happened. "He gave me very good advice, and I'd like to try the plan he suggested."

"Which is?" Imp hissed suspiciously.

Unsure how much to tell the other, Craig decided to just give him the basics. "He said your memories could come back just by taking you around and getting you familiar with human culture. He went as far as to say you could even... be human again."

Imp went quiet, thinking on this new information. Craig watched as what felt like a million emotions crossed his face before he finally gave a slight nod.

"Alright, I'll do it."

Craig went to bed shortly after, throwing himself on top of the sheets. It didn't take him long to drift away, leaving Imp with Stripe.

Imp settled the guinea pig back into the cage and closed the little door. Since coming to the Tucker house, he had felt strange. A slight pressure in the back of his mind. It wasn't terrible or painful, but it was a weird presence.

He looked across the room at the full-length mirror propped against the wall, taking in his reflection. During the day when he was alone, he didn't bother to hide his true appearance, but when others were around he did. Currently, he looked like any other human, abet a bit more tired than them. Craig had also dug up some clothes for him out of his closet. They were too big, hanging off his thin frame, practically drowning him in blue fabric, but he didn't mind.

The old sweat pants covering his legs were soft from the hundreds of times it had been laundered, as was the faded blue shirt with the word NASA printed on it. He didn't know what it meant, but it must have been something important. Why else would the letters be screaming at him?

Turning away from the mirror, he looked at the one thing he had brought with himself through the portal, nothing more than a pile of shredded green material. It had been with him when he woke in Hell. He couldn't remember if he'd had anything else. Well, anything else but...

Crossing the room, he knelt by the pile and moved it, revealing his only other possession. This one was special, he never went anywhere without it. He didn't understand what was so special about it to him, but he knew he had to keep it safe.

Picking it up, he turned it over in his hands, running his fingers over the yellow puff on the top of the blue hat.

* * *

The next morning, Craig's alarm didn't wake him. Imp did.

When the song suddenly burst from the surprisingly loud speak of his phone, Craig didn't hear it. He did, however, hear Imp's surprised screech. That got him to not only open his eyes but sit bolt upright. After fumbling to turn off the alarm, he rubbed his eyes tiredly and yawned.

"Morning, Imp," he mumbled, getting out of bed. He had ended up sleeping in his work clothes again, but he didn't care. He was dressing down today anyway. He stretched his arms over his head, then unbuttoned his shirt, dropping the crumpled item into his hamper.

Imp refused to look at him, curled up on his desk chair. He had re-hidden the hat in his fabric bundle after just staring at it for a few hours. The idea of anyone finding it made his stomach roll sickeningly, but for some reason, the thought of Craig finding it made him want to actually be ill. Maybe it was an omen. Whatever the reason, he kept it a secret.

Craig showered, then dressed. By the time he was ready, Imp was downstairs, chugging a mug of black coffee. It was far earlier than Craig was used to getting up, and he wandered over, wanting a cup himself.

Hearing him enter the kitchen, Imp glanced over. His eyes widened, and he quickly turned away, his face quickly turning red. He hadn't seen Craig dress casually until that moment. The youth pastor usually wore a button-down dress shirt and pressed pants with a nice jacket and shiny black shoes, his hair smoothed flat. This was basically the opposite.

Ripped up jeans, a second NASA shirt (seriously, what was this NASA thing?), beat up sneakers, and a zip up hoodie. He hadn't taken the time to straighten his hair either, leaving it to dry naturally, which meant for the moment, it was almost as spiky as Imp's.

"Six am... I never thought I would wake up this early again," the man sighed, pouring himself some coffee. "I told Maxi when he hired me not to expect a sunrise service from me ever. So far, he's accepted that."

Imp made a noise of agreement. Dammit, he hadn't been ready for the sneak attack of casually dressed Craig! He snuck glances at him until he was able to meet his gaze without blushing. Luckily, Craig didn't seem to notice his predicament.

They finished their coffee, and Craig suggested they go. Imp nodded and gulped down the rest of the pot then followed behind Craig as he put on his shoes and coat. Creating shoes around his socked feet (Craig had insisted looking at him made him "sympathetically cold"), he followed him out of the house.

Craig began his tour with the Community Center the next block over. It was a rather plain start, but it was the location of a lot of the bullshit that happened in the town, therefore, it was a worthy starting point. It was empty, but not locked like most people thought. Craig knew it wasn't ever locked, his times sneaking out of the house to see his friends at all hours of the day or night in his little kid days had informed him of that.

They walked around the giant gymnasium for a few minutes, Craig explaining what the building was and its purpose. Imp listened silently, his eyes scanning the place. When they returned to the front door, he made only one comment.

"This place smells like it has a lot of cult activities."

While he couldn't say he was surprised to hear this, he was caught off guard by the way that Imp could tell. "It... smells?"

"Yeah." The Hell creature nodded, gesturing around them. "I don't know what to compare it to for you. I guess the closest thing would be something burning? Or rotting meat? Specifically human? I doubt you know what that smells like that, though."

Craig was glad that of all the insane things he had lived through, other than that one time the town had pink eye zombies (well, and then later with the zombie Nazis), he hadn't really been around rotting corpse, so he could for once say he didn't know that particular smell.

"No, I don't," he finally said, glancing around the room. "Anyway, this is where a lot of town meetings are held. Either here or in front of the Mayor's office, it just depends. I remember when I was a kid, we would have meetings in here too, but I can't remember what they were about."

They didn't stay much longer, heading out and walking towards Stark's Pond. They passed the elementary school, which was still dark and empty. The time was nearing 6:30, and Craig knew no one would arrive to open it for another half hour. He pointed at it as they passed.

"This is where we're coming back to tonight," he said. Imp looked at the two-story building curiously, taking in the plainness. "I know it's not much to look at. It's not got much to offer teaching wise either though, so it all works out."

Imp smiled and nodded, catching the joking tone. They arrived at the pond, and Imp knelt down at the water's edge, a strange look on his face. Craig watched him apprehensively. Was he beginning to remember something?

He glanced around the area, his eyebrows furrowed in thought. He traced his fingers over the water, creating gentle ripples on the surface that spread quickly outwards. Imp leaned forward, staring at his reflection in the pond. He bit his lip, locking eyes with his reflection. Craig moved closer slowly, setting his hand lightly on his shoulder.

"Imp, are you okay?" he murmured, crouching beside him.

"This place... I don't know what it is, but... it feels strangely familiar. I can't say what it is about it."

"Maybe you grew up somewhere near water," Craig suggested. In his mind, he put a pin on the map, knowing this spot would be a good one to return too. Perhaps if they visited often enough, it would spark a memory. He let him take as much time as he wanted; there was no rush for them to get to anywhere anyway.

They walked around the pond for a few hours, Craig listening to the sounds of the town waking up. Most people were at work when Imp decided he was ready to move on. They headed North, taking a short walk through the woods, though Craig made sure to direct him away from Mephesto's creepy lab up on the hill. Rather, he directed them towards Skeeter's Wine Bar. There were a few places that he had no intention of taking the other to, such as the Peppermint Hippo. That just seemed like a terrible idea.

He checked the time as they walked, glad to see it was nearing nine. They walked past the bar, Jimbo's gun shop, City Wok, and the brewery, Craig explaining each as they went. Unless Imp wanted desperately to go in to a business, he was fine with continuing on. He was worried to see the interactions Imp would have, steadying himself with the reminder that he had been fine before he had spoken with Jesus, and he would be fine now. It was difficult for him to not worry about the other, for whatever reason.

Next, they turned down the road and headed towards the police station. Outside, Sergent Yates was standing by the entrance with a travel mug, looking exhausted while an older woman screamed in his face, her eyes narrowed. Her finger was an inch from his nose, clearly full of rage. Yates glanced over and saw the two. Craig hesitated, considering turning them around and walking back. Unfortunately, the woman saw Yates' gaze and whipped around to see what he was looking at. Spotting the youth pastor, her face contorted in rage.

Visibly shaking, she clenched her fists at her sides and spun on her heel, storming away from the police station. Yates sighed and waved at them before going inside. Imp looked up at Craig curiously.

"It's Firkle's mother. He was one of the ten who were in the church the other night," he explained, his hand grabbing hold of Imp's and tugging him slightly to head down the street. "I figure she knows that I had something to do with Firkle getting killed. It's whatever though, she's kind of a bitch."

The pair traveled down Main street, passing the Mayor's office and the multitude of businesses lining the road. Reaching the Photo Dojo, Craig pointed up the street at the giant building. "Over there is the movie theater and Tweek Bros. Coffee. We're going there tonight, so we're skipping it for now." They crossed into the playground, pausing for Craig to teach Imp how to play tether ball, an old favorite of his.

Imp enjoyed the game, particularly when he punched the ball back so fast that Craig was unable to dodge and was beaned in the head. They sat at the picnic tables for a while to give the youth pastor a chance to re-cooperate. When his headache passed, Craig led the way down the path, the pair arriving back on the Craig's street, though now on the other end.

"My friend Kenny lives over there," he said, gesturing over the railroad tracks behind them. "You'll meet him tonight, he's going to help us get into the school."

"Why do you want us to get into the school so badly?" Imp asked, admittedly confused by his persistence.

Craig sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Because it might help you remember something," he said. "I don't know why I didn't tell you this last night, and I'm sorry if this makes you angry at me, but Jesus told me that..." He paused, taking a breath before finishing, "He told me you're from South Park."

A heavy silence fell between them, Imp's eyes widening at the news. For a long time, he didn't speak, and Craig worried that he'd made Imp so mad that he would leave. He really, really didn't want that. He couldn't explain the intense fear that came over him at the thought, but it sure was there.

Finally, Imp put his hands on his hips, kicking at a rock by his foot. "It's stupid that you didn't say anything," he agreed. "But I suppose we both had a lot to think about yesterday. Some details may slip through the cracks." While he wanted to be angry with Craig for this, he felt he couldn't actually be, considering his own secret. Though, maybe Craig would recognize the garment and be able to tell him why it was special now. ...maybe in a day or two. He still wasn't comfortable with letting him know about his only possessions.

It was around lunch time, and Craig led the way back to the house. His father and sister were gone, and he sighed gladly. Imp went upstairs, checking on his things, then remained to play a bit with Stripe. He had grown immensely fond of the tiny animal over the past few days. The 'wheeking' as Craig had called it was cute, and it never failed to make him smile.

When he returned downstairs, Craig had made them both sandwiches along with a new pot of coffee. Imp gladly accepted a mug, taking a few gulps of the scorching liquid. Craig winced slightly as he watched, but he figured Imp was at least somewhat fire proof, so it likely didn't hurt him as much as his brain was insisting it did.

The pair ate together before heading back out into the town around one o'clock. Craig decided not to take Imp to the U-Stor-It or the mess of construction around the area. It was a major pain in the ass to try and navigate through, so it was better to just avoid it. They returned to the pond, seeing as Imp had had such a strange reaction to it before.

Craig sat on a rock, leaning back on his arms, watching him traverse the area. What was going through his head, he wondered? Normally, he would have had no problem with straight out asking, but in the moment, it felt somehow inappropriate. If Imp wanted him to know, he would tell him, and it would be rude of him to pry.

They remained at the pond until the sun began to sink, returning to the Tucker residence. Tricia and Thomas greeted them, grinning at Imp in a knowing way that made Craig suspicious. He shrugged it off and went upstairs to fill Stripe's water and food. The moment he was gone, Tricia pounced on Imp.

"Misty!" she cooed excitedly. "What did you and Craig do all day?"

"He was showing me around the town," he answered, wriggling away.

"Where did he take you?" the girl demanded, releasing him. Her foot tapped impatiently on the ground, and Imp could tell Thomas was listening to them though he was pretending not to care.

"He took me everywhere," he huffed. What, was he supposed to remember the exact name of every single place?

Thomas surveyed him, an eyebrow peaked. "Really? Well, uh, did you have fun?"

Imp shot him a confused look, slightly annoyed by how often the day had put him in this state. "Yeah, I guess so? We were at the pond for a really long time. I liked looking at the water."

The father and daughter glanced at each other before Tricia ventured, "Did you go anywhere that seemed to make Craig a little uncomfortable?"

"We walked by the police place," he said, settling onto the couch. "That wasn't great because some crazy bitch was screaming at a dude outside, and when she saw us she got even angrier and left. Craig didn't seem to like that too much."

The two sighed, realizing that Imp was not understanding what they were asking. "Misty, did Craig take you to a place called the Raisins?" Tricia asked. "It's past Main street, close to the Chinese restaurant?"

Imp tilted his head. "No? What's that?" The relief on their faces annoyed him, and it was only Craig returning downstairs that kept him from snapping at them. The pair had been a bit worried, Imp seemed so sweet and innocent, they had been afraid he would be upset by going to places like that. They didn't think Craig would have taken him there, but who knew what the other was thinking.

They ate dinner, hung out all together a while, then retired to their rooms. When it was getting close to midnight, Craig led the way out of the house towards the school, Imp trudging along behind him.

Reaching the yellow building near the edge of town, they found the front door slightly ajar.

"I bet Kenny is already inside," Craig murmured. "It's pretty cold tonight." Entering the front area of the school, Craig was glad for lights that didn't ever fully turn off, making it so there was enough light to see by at all times. Imp wandered towards the display case to the side, investigating the trophies housed there.

"I'm going to see if he's in the bathroom or something, I'll be right back," he called softly. Imp nodded to show he'd heard and Craig headed up the steps and down the hall.

Shortly after, Imp heard something move in one of the rooms nearby. He turned as a man opened a door at the far end of the room and step out, his arms filled with supplies. He had messy blonde hair like Imp's, but darker, and strikingly blue eyes. Half his face was obscured by an orange bandana tied around his nose and mouth. The man looked up and they stared at each other in surprise.

Imp didn't know why, but the man's eyes shot wide, and everything he held slipped from his grasp, crashing to the ground.

"T... Tweek...?"


	4. Misjudgement

"Who the fuck is 'Tweek'?"

Kenny didn't know what to make of the other. He stood in front of him, about a foot between them, his eyes searching his face. What did he mean who was Tweek? Or more important than that, what the Hell had happened to him? Kenny, being cursed himself, found he could often feel a kind of vibe from other people. It could help him figure out if they would be a threat later on or not. From the person in front of him, someone he remembered clearly had always given out a gentle aura, he felt something he never had before.

It was as though Tweek's energy had been dipped in thick, black tar. His goodness was still inside of him, but something, something evil, had warped it.

The more Kenny thought, the more distressed he grew. He hadn't thought about Tweek in years. In fact, he could remember the last time he had. It had been when- His eyes shot wide as a memory unlocked in his mind, causing him to gasp out loud.

Across from him, Imp glared, baring his teeth in irritation. "Who are you and what do you want?" he hissed, bringing Kenny back.

"Ah... Sorry, I must have... just mistaken you for someone I knew..." Stooping down, Kenny scooped up the supplies scattered around his feet and straightened. "I'm Kenny McCormick. You must be... Craig's friend."

Imp rolled his eyes at the word, but nodded and crossed his arms. "I guess you could call it that."

Down the hall, the door opened, and Craig returned, having heard the commotion. He was relieved to see Kenny and not some teacher who had chosen to work late. Making his way down the steps, he moved to Imp's side, his hand twitching slightly as though to grab the other's, though it dropped back to his side a moment later.

"Kenny," he greed softly. "This is... well, Tricia calls him Misty, I call him Imp. He's uh... he's an imp."

"Yeah, so I can guess from the name," Kenny hummed, his confusion only growing. Why didn't Craig call Tweek by his name? Why were the two acting as though they didn't know one another? Scanning over his newly revived memory, his face screwed up with worry as the realization hit him: Craig didn't know who Tweek was. Tweek didn't know who he was. No one did. No one but him.

Imp huffed in annoyance, cracking his neck and joints before allowing his disguise to burn away, showing off his Hellish form. He watched Kenny's face, and was irritated when he didn't look frightened. What kind of imp couldn't at least scare someone? What bullshit. He turned away, walking from the pair to continue his investigation, his hooves clacking against the ground as his tail twitched in agitation.

When he was a good distance off, Kenny turned his full attention to Craig, who was watching Imp. "What the fuck is going on, Tucker?" he demanded.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Craig went over everything that had happened over the last few days, though he left out a few details, starting with Imp's summoning and ending with his conversation with Jesus. He chose to omit the fact that Imp had killed the group in the church, worried Kenny wouldn't want to help them if he knew the truth.

"He told me to take him around and introduce him to things. That he's from South Park..." His gaze drifted back to the other, watching Imp press his face against the glass of a display case. "But I don't know who he is. He said I need to be careful who I introduce him too, that someone might remember what happened to him, and it was likely something bad."

Oh, God. Craig had no idea. But Kenny did, he knew, but in that moment, he realized it was better not to say. To tell Craig what had happened to Tw-Imp, would not end well. He wasn't Tweek now, and he couldn't afford to slip up and let Craig figure out he knew more than he let on.

"I'm sorry, Craig," he said sincerely. "I don't have any answers for you, but I'm willing to help however I can. All of my services are at your disposal, and until this is solved, I'll let you use them at your digression. Just don't get stupid and take advantage of my kindness."

Craig was shocked that Kenny had believed him so easily but not for the first time he remembered the insanity of South Park, and figured that Kenny had probably experienced far more intense shit than this before.

"Thanks, dude." They shook hands, then turned their attention to Imp. "Hey, Imp?" he called, getting his attention. He had been looking through a window into one of the classrooms. "Let's take a walk."

The three set off around the dark and empty building. Normally, Craig would have found it vaguely unsettling, but once you had a creature of Hell with you at all times, things like abandoned buildings lost their spark.

"Are you looking for some specific here?" Kenny asked.

"No, just wandering," Craig admitted. "I figured walking around gives us the best chance of Imp seeing something he recognizes if we cover everything rather than trying to narrow it down."

"Fair enough, but like, why is here so important?"

"Kenny, we spent practically every day of our childhood here," Craig said, getting annoyed with the line of questioning. "There's a higher chance of him getting a memory or something from here over pretty much anywhere else."

Imp wasn't listening to their conversation, instead more interested in peeking into every room and trying to read the posters on the wall. Most were stupid, and the ones that weren't were dumb. You say its the same thing? Touche, but Imp didn't care. He had shitty posters to make fun of to himself.

When they realized the school was a bust, they left, Craig feeling disappointed. He had really hoped the school would be a helpful trigger. He didn't know what else he could possibly do to help Imp get his memories back. As Kenny locked the school back up, they moved off. At least they could get a nice coffee. Maybe a muffin, too.

Moving through the dark, cold streets of the town, Craig sighed heavily, his breath puffing into the air and floating away. "Sorry, Imp," he said.

Imp blinked, looking over at him, his human form returning. "For what?"

"For this day being a total failure."

"Jeez, man, it's literally been one day," he said, quirking an eyebrow. "Do you always give up this easy?"

"Yes."

"Aren't you cheery?" He bumped his shoulder against the other's. "Relax. It's not that big of a deal. Maybe when I was a human child I just didn't give a shit about school."

Craig sighed. "Very possible. Likely, even. I don't know a lot of kids who did love school, especially one as shitty as ours."

"Anyway," Imp hummed, "there was talk of coffee?"

This got a laugh out of Craig and he shook his head. "Yeah, we're heading to the coffee shop. God, am I going to have to stage an intervention for you? This love you have for a beverage is getting to be kind of much."

"Oh, shut up," he huffed. "You live in Hell for who knows how long without anything then suddenly have access to delicious things and tell me you wouldn't also go overboard."

"I wouldn't."

"Bullshit, you can't prove that."

Craig grinned. "Nope. So I guess you'll just have to trust me."

Imp glared back, but a small smile was on his lips. "I guess so."

They got to the cafe and Craig yawned. "Wait out here, I don't think they need you trying to go around the counter to drink all their stock." Though he pouted, Imp did as he said, waiting by the door as Craig went inside.

The warmth of the shop washed over him, and he sighed in delight. As a bonus to the inside being warm, it also smelled delicious. "Good evening, Mr. Tweak, Mrs. Tweak," he greeted as he approached the counter.

"Craig," Mr. Tweak said with a smile. "It's been a long while. How are you doing? We heard about that terrible business at the church. Everything alright?"

"Yeah, nothing to worry about," he assured as Mrs. Tweak moved to the pastries.

"The usual, honey?"

"Yeah, but could I get a second muffin, and a large black coffee too?"

"Of course." Mrs. Tweak got his items as Mr. Tweak rang them up.

"Working late?" he asked as he accepted Craig's money.

"No, I'm heading to bed, but I have a new friend spending the night who loves coffee and is dying to try your stuff. I figured I could throw in the bonus of one of Mrs. Tweak's delicious muffins," Craig chuckled.

"Awe, thank you, honey," Mrs. Tweak said, giggling with girlish delight. She was known for being very proud of her baking skill.

Taking his change and his purchases, Craig wished them goodnight, then went outside.

Imp looked over excitedly, moving closer to him and into the light.

Inside the shop, Mrs. Tweak watched Craig leave fondly. She had always wanted a child, but it had never happened, business had just gotten in the way. Unfortunate, but it happened. As such, she had always viewed the children of the town sort of as her own. For whatever reason, Craig in particular had a special place in her heart.

The shift of another person outside the window caught her attention and she looked over. It must have been the friend Craig had mentioned. They came into the light, and Mrs. Tweak's entire body went cold.

"T... T..." That boy... That boy, she knew him... right? Her mind struggled to call forth the memories.

Mr. Tweak, noticing her stiffness, moved over to her side. "Helen? What's wrong?" he asked.

"T-That... Tweek... o-our son... my baby..." she whispered, her voice hoarse. Mr. Tweak blinked, then paled.

"What are you talking about? We don't have any children-"

_"DON'T YOU FUCKING LIE TO ME!"_ Mrs. Tweak whipped around to her husband, her eyes blazing with rage. _"THAT'S MY BABY! WHAT DID YOU DO!?"_ Before he could answer, she grabbed one of the coffee machines, yanking it off the counter to the ground with a crash.

"Helen! Stop, wait! You don't understand!" Mr. Tweak ducked, barely dodging a mug whipped at his head. "Helen!"

_"WHAT DID YOU DO TO OUR SON?!"_

Outside, the two looked up in surprise at the sound. Craig pushed his coffee and pastry into Imp's hands. "Hold this, I'll be back," he said, then rushed back inside, Mrs. Tweak smashing everything she could get her hands on and screeching at the top of her lungs as her husband tried to avoid being injured and calm her.

As Craig approached, she picked up an empty coffee pot and attacked Richard. Craig, not knowing what else to do, threw himself between them. He was cracked over the head with the heavy glass pot, and he crumpled to the ground as it shattered, glass and blood falling around him.

The Tweaks paused, looking down at Craig in shock, Mr. Tweak shaking in fear, and Mrs. Tweak in anger.

Tweek had watched the entire thing. He watched Craig get between the two. He watched Mrs. Tweak hit him. He watched Craig fall and not get up. And keep not getting up.

His arms fell to his sides, dropping everything onto the pavement. Tweek wasn't sure what feeling was coming over him. It was unlike anything he had felt before. He wanted to cry and scream, to run to Craig. But more than anything, he wanted to hurt the people who had hurt Craig. _His_ Craig.

His human form melted away, the snow around him turning to steam as fire erupted around him. He opened the door, moving inside.

The jingle above the door got the Tweaks to look over. Mrs. Tweak's face flashed through a series of emotions, as did Mr. Tweak's, but they were shocking different.

Sadness. Surprise. Joy.

Fear. Anger. Hate.

He didn't care. He didn't care what they thought, he didn't care what they were feeling. He wanted to make them hurt. He looked down at Craig as he moved closer. Craig wasn't moving. Why wasn't he moving? Why was he so still? That wasn't right.

His eyes flashed and turned molten red. These two... He lifted his head, looking back and forth between them.

They had killed Craig.

They had _killed_ Craig.

They had _killed his Craig_.

"T-Tweek..."

The woman. She was daring to speak to him. To think she was allowed to say anything at all, least of all that same stupid name Kenny had said at him as well.

"How the fuck are you here?" The man spoke to him too. He sounded angry, like a dog trying to growl.

Oh, how he hated them.

"You killed Craig," he murmured. He knelt down, looking at Craig's face. It was cut up and bleeding heavily, his body still. He brushed his fingers through Craig's hair gently.

Inside his head, Imp was screaming. No, please, not Craig. He didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve any of this. He had only been trying to help him, how could this be Craig's fate? How was this fair?

The man moved. He dared to try and strike Imp as he thought and was near Craig.

Imp's tail lashed around Mr. Tweak's wrist tight and the man screamed in pain, the bone cracking and his skin burning from the heat of the Hell fire coursing through Imp's body. He stood slowly, looking over at him. Mr. Tweak was glaring at him hatefully, struggling to free himself.

"I was having a moment," Imp said softly.

"I don't give a _fuck_ what you're doing!" he spat. "Get out of my store, you fucking demon! You shouldn't be here! You're dead! You're-!" He choked, Imp's hand gripped around his throat tightly.

"I am many things," he whispered. "But what I am right now?" His claws dug into Mr. Tweak's neck, and he ripped it away, tearing open his esophagus. Mrs. Tweak, who had been frozen in shock, screamed as Mr. Tweak collapsed to the ground, gagging and gurgling as his blood flooded his lungs, drowning him.

The noise reminded Tweek of her presence. He turned around to face her, flicking his wrist, splattering blood across the floor.

"You are the one who hit him... it's your fault he's dead. Your fault..." He started towards her, and she backed away, trembling.

"N-No, no, it w-was an accident! I didn't mean to hit him, I'm sorry-" She screamed again, this time in pain as Tweek grabbed her hair in his fist, lifting her up, her feet dangling off the ground. Her hands grabbed Imp's arm, and she screamed for a third time, her hands burning from touching him.

"You killed my Craig..." He lifted his other hand, looking at his claws for a moment, then at Mrs. Tweak. He paused for a second, then dug his claws into her stomach. He tuned out her noise, his hearing going fuzzy. He focused on his work, wanting to make sure she felt this pain to the very depths of her core. He pushed his hand into her and grabbed her soul, ripping it from her body.

When it was in his hand, she was dead, and he dropped her worthless corpse, shoving it on top of the still dying Mr. Tweak.

"Such a light color," Imp murmured to himself, examining the light grey ball of energy in his hands. She hadn't lived a clean life, but... according to her soul, she had been a good person.

He didn't care. He didn't have to agree. That wasn't his job, it was just to get souls. She was dead now, and that was what he had wanted. He released her soul, watching it vanish into the sky. He looked back over at Mr. Tweak, watching the light in his eyes go out. He reached out and grabbed the soul that came out before it could go off.

As he had thought, it was nearly pitch black. A disgusting man. He let it go again, feeling the deepest of satisfaction as it was sucked into the depths.

The pair taken care of, Imp's legs shook, and he collapsed to the ground beside Craig. Tears filled his eyes, and he put a shaking hand on Craig's forehead.

"O-Oh... Oh, God... Craig... Please..." he whimpered. He pulled Craig into his lap, hugging him to his chest and sniffing. His wings shuttered, opening fully to envelope Craig, his tail limp on the floor.

He wiped at the blood on Craig's face, trying to clean it but only succeeding in smearing it across his skin. Imp's breathing grew erratic, and he began to weep heavily, laying over Craig's chest, his heart broken.

Craig... He had been so reluctant to admit to his growing feelings for the pastor, but now... now it was too late. The other was gone, and he'd never have the chance again. All the time they had spent together, everything they had done, the feelings they had danced around had been rendered meaningless in seconds.

Now he had nothing left.

* * *

Kenny hadn't stopped thinking about Imp since they had parted ways. How could he have forgotten what he saw all those years ago? How could he have forgotten a friend? He felt sick from the sudden rush of recalled memories that had slammed his brain. So long had passed... was that why Imp didn't remember them either?

Impossible to say at the moment. He was heading for home, walking down the dark street, lost in thought when he heard the screams. Racing towards the origin, Kenny skidded around the corner, seeing the coffee shop before him. He stopped, watching in horror as Imp brutally reaped the souls of the Tweaks, sickness turning in his stomach.

Oh, no. Of all the people Imp had to run into... but what had happened to cause this? Imp hadn't been violent in anyway before, so-

He watched as Imp collapsed and pulled a motionless being into his arms. When he spotted Craig's face, covered in blood and eyes closed, he burst into a sprint, charging to the shop and slamming open the door. Imp didn't look up, didn't react in any noticeable way to Kenny's arrival.

Kenny's heart was pounding, and he felt it's every beat in his throat. The whole place smelled like blood and death. Swallowing hard, he took a shaking breath and spoke. "Hey... Imp?"

The other's head shot up and Kenny stepped back with wide eyes. Imp's face was twisted with pain and rage, his eyes red with Hell fire. He growled and barred his teeth at Kenny, his fangs returning to defend Craig's body.

"I-Imp, it's okay," he finally managed to get out, putting up his hands to show he had nothing with him, and beginning to take a small step towards him again. "I'm going to come a little closer no-"

He was interrupted by a blinding pain shooting through his leg, and he fell back to assess his wound. In less time than it took him to blink, Imp had slashed his shin and up his thigh, leaving three deep gauges. Kenny forced down a scream and looked back at the other, finding Imp glaring at him hatefully, a set of massive wings now wrapped protectively around Craig.

" _Don't you come near us,_ " Imp spat. " _Craig's life was taken from me. I won't lose his body next._ "

"I-I'm not going to take him from you," Kenny assured as quickly as he could without tripping on his words. "I just want to see if I can help. Tell me what happened in here."

" _They attacked him. They killed him. So I killed them._ "

"Are you sure he's dead? He could just be hurt and in need of medical attention. Please, Imp, let me just check. We might still be able to save him!"

" _How do I know I can trust you!?_ "

"You don't!" Kenny allowed his desperation to seep into his voice, wanting him to understand he had no hidden motive. "Please, I just want to try and save him!"

Imp watched him silently for a while, and as Kenny began to fear Imp would for sure send him away or murder him, he retracted one wing, allowing Kenny to see Craig's pale face.

" _One wrong move, and I claim your soul as well._ "

He nodded weakly, then limped closer. His leg was on fire, even the smallest amount of pressure sending waves of agony through him. Once close enough, he dropped down beside them and leaned in to take in Craig's condition.

The pastor's face was caked in blood, he was pale, but he seemed to still be breathing. Kenny moved a bit closer, tilting his head to the side to listen. He was finally able to pick up the sound of shallow breaths.

"He's alive," he informed Imp, looking up. "We have to get him to a hospital."

"A-Alive... He's alive..." Imp began to shake, tears welling in his eyes as they faded back to normal. "What do we do?"

"Get me my phone. I'll call an ambulance."

* * *

Help arrived quickly and the three were taken to Hell's Pass Hospital. Kenny fabricated a story to answer their questions, insisting they leave Imp alone, that he was in shock and not able to answer. Imp had refused to let go of Craig either, and the three were put in the back, Craig laying on a stretcher, Imp at his side. Kenny was on one of the benches, his lacerated leg stretched out next to him, an EMT working on getting the bleeding to stop. As they pulled away from the shop, Kenny heard police sirens approaching. He'd have to come back later for sure.

Upon arrival, Imp was finally separated from Craig and the other was taken off quickly by nurses. Kenny brushed off the nurses wanting to take him back as well, feeling it would be a very, very bad idea to leave Imp alone. Instead he simply asked for a brace and bandages, wrapping his leg and putting the brace on. Still painful, but at least he wasn't losing as much blood with every step, and he could somewhat walk now.

He sat Imp down on a chair in the waiting room, then called Thomas to inform him of the situation. Finally, he let himself fall back into a chair at Imp's side, glancing over at him.

"Thomas and Tricia will be here in a few minutes," he said softly. Imp gave no response, and he sighed, leaning back to rest his head against the wall. "He's going to be fine, Imp. The doctors will make sure of it."

"...okay..."

"I take it Tucker wasn't fully honest with me then, when he was telling me how you met and all. Would I be correct in guessing that it was you who's responsible for all those dead people in the church?"

"...yeah."

"I see. He should have just told me... But I can guess why he didn't." Kenny ran a hand down his face, then sat back up. "Once they get here, I have to go do something. Will you be okay?"

"...Will Craig really live?"

"No question."

"Then I'll be fine."

Kenny huffed, then pushed himself to his feet with a grunt. "Alright. Good."

"Kenny!" The pair looked over at the sound of Tricia's voice. She and Thomas were coming through the door, Thomas looking ill, Tricia on the verge of tears. She ran to them, grabbing Kenny's arm. "What happened?! Where's Craig, is he okay?!"

"He's fine, don't panic," he said, giving her a small smile. "Things just... got a bit crazy."

"Misty! What were you guys even doing out!?" Tricia yelled, turning her attention to the other.

"Craig... was showing me around," he answered lowly.

"In the middle of the night?! It's like two in the morning!"

"Tricia," Kenny said, moving between her and Imp. "It's not his fault. Craig wanted to show him some places is all, and some are easier to go to at night when it's empty."

"Don't you start, Kenny!" she snapped, her fear turning to anger. "Tell me what happened! Right now!"

"He asked me to meet up with them," he said coolly. "We stopped for coffee. The Tweaks got in a fight, Craig and I were collateral damage." He paused before adding, "I think they killed each other." Tricia stepped back to her father, hugging herself and biting her lip. Thomas put a hand on her shoulder.

"Thank you for calling me, Kenny," he murmured. "Do you know what the situation is with him?"

"I think they're just cleaning him up and making sure his injuries aren't as bad as they look."

Thomas nodded and took a seat, returning to his silence. Tricia hesitated, then sat beside Imp, biting her lip awkwardly.

"I have to go, but I'll see you guys later," Kenny said, giving a small wave.

"Wh- But you're hurt too!" Tricia protested.

"I know, but it's not like I can afford to get treatment anyway," he said lightly, giving her a lopsided grin. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine, I always am."

"Right... fine. You better be," she huffed. "Karen will get mad." Kenny laughed lightly, and finally took off, leaving the three to wait.

* * *

After making his escape, he returned to the cafe. It was swarming with confused police as they tried to figure out what had happened. A crowd had gathered, watching and chattering to one another as the bodies of the Tweaks were brought out under sheets. Kenny frowned as he watched, looking for his opportunity. He needed to snatch the security camera footage that would expose Imp. That was really the last problem they needed right now on top of everything else.

He was a good distance from the scene, watching from the shadows of an alleyway. His leg was really going to make this much more difficult, but he didn't have a choice.

With no small amount of pain, he pulled himself up to the fire escape a few feet above him, using the metal stairs to get to the roof, moving to the edge. He was just close enough, he should be able to make the jump... thank fuck the U-Stor-It had expanded another line of storage rooms up against the cafe's property. Would be a big help.

Bracing himself, Kenny leapt, crossing the gap between the two businesses and landing safely on the cafe roof. It took all of his willpower not to scream in pain as his leg felt like it was being ripped from his body. He bit down on his lip to stop any noise until he tasted blood. Holy shit, holy shit, it hurt, _**holy shit**_.

Forcing his breathing back under his control, Kenny crawled over to the access hatch, pulling it up and looking down into the darkness of the backroom. It looked like none of the police had gone back yet, having so much to investigate in the front.

He moved as quickly as he could, climbing down into the storage area. It was filled with bags of coffee beans and other coffee paraphernalia, the smell somewhat overwhelming.

Tweek... used to work in here... Kenny slapped himself a few times lightly to force the thoughts away. He didn't have time to think on depressing truths at the moment, he had work to do. Get in, get his shit, get out.

It didn't take long to locate the office, and he slipped inside, shutting the door behind him quietly. There was a desk in front of him, four monitors sitting on its top, showing Kenny the police outside. He turned away from them, not wanting to see the mess. He focused on his search, wanting to find- there.

Reaching out, he picked up the hard-drive the monitors were connected to, their feeds recorded inside. Not knowing how long he had, Kenny skipped disconnecting the wires in favor of cutting the device free. With it tucked under his arm, he made his way back to the hatch. It was harder going up than coming down, but somehow he managed.

Once he was safely on the roof, he closed the hatch and locked it, just in case. He let himself have a moment, laying on his back and staring up at the stars, waiting for his heart to calm and the pain to recede.

He wasn't going to last with his body like this.

Rolling over, he pushed himself onto his feet, making his way slowly back to the edge of the roof. He couldn't let anyone find this... As he struggled to think of an answer, a possible solution arose.

His body and whatever he had always vanished when he died. Would it work for this too? Impossible to say, and a huge risk to take, but he didn't have much of a choice, he was in too much pain to think of another plan.

His fate for the night chosen, Kenny hugged the drive to his chest, and let himself fall into the dark below. Before the world turned to nothing, he made a note to himself to come back and check. Then everything was gone.


	5. Downhill

The soft beeping of a heart monitor greeted Craig when he woke. He opened his eyes slowly, looking around the room in a sluggish, dazed confusion. He couldn't quite form his thoughts, his brain feeling as though it had been wrapped in foam, his mind working double to push his consciousness through and into reality.

Light was shining into the room through a large window, and he was able to get a good look at his surroundings, recognizing them quickly. He pushed himself up into a sitting position, his confusion growing. What exactly had happened last night? He remembered going to the coffee shop, but nothing after. What could he have possibly done to end up in the hospital?

He glanced down to his side, and felt a small smile form on his lips when he saw Imp, curled up asleep in a chair next to the bed. He could see signs around the room that Thomas and Tricia had been there as well. They must have only just left, likely to find some food. He couldn't tell if it was lunch or breakfast time, but anything really sounded good. He was shockingly hungry.

Clearing his throat, he put a hand on Imp's shoulder, shaking him lightly. The other mumbled something lowly, then his eyes blinked open. Seeing Craig staring back at him, Imp shot up in his seat, leaning in towards him.

"Y-You're awake," he whispered, grabbing Craig's hand and holding it tightly. Craig was surprised by his reaction, frowning lightly. Something had clearly happened to him, but he hadn't even the slightest clue as to what.

"Yeah, I'm up," he finally answered, patting Imp's hand on his awkwardly. "Uh... what exactly happened?"

Imp looked away, locking his eyes on a tile on the floor. "...you got hurt. I... I thought you'd been killed."

"I don't even feel like I was hurt or anything. I have no idea what happened," he confessed. "I remember going to get coffee after seeing Kenny, then nothing."

"Thomas said they put you on a thing to keep your pain down." Imp pointed at the IV in Craig's hand, which he had somehow not noticed until that moment. "You got hit in the head really hard. That bitch at the shop broke a pot on you."

"Fuck..." Craig reached up his free hand to his face, becoming aware of the gauze wrapped around his skull. "Mrs. Tweak isn't that bad, Imp, I'm sure it was an accident. I'll go see them later and tell them I'm not mad."

Imp shrunk down into himself as Craig spoke, biting his lip.

"...what?" he asked. "Imp? What's wrong?"

"I-It's nothing. Don't worry about that for now. Just focus on getting better." He leaned towards him, squeezing his hand a bit tighter. "They had to do an emergency procedure they said. To get all the glass out of your head. They were worried pieces got stuck in your bone, but the doctor said they couldn't find any trace of that. He said it bled so much just because I guess head injuries bleed a lot more than others."

Craig sighed, leaning back into his pillow and closing his eyes. He was grateful to not feel the pain he knew could come later, but for now, he just felt tired.

"Craig, can... I need to tell you something."

He looked over at Imp, curious. He sounded distracted, what could he have been thinking about while Craig was out of the picture?

"It's about something I realized... when I saw you get hurt." Imp took a breath, then forced his eyes to meet Craig's. "I felt scared. I was so scared I had... I thought I lost you. I was so sure you had died in that moment... I thought you had died before I had the chance to tell you how I really felt."

Craig's heart skipped, and his body went cold. Oh. _Oh._ Imp was... no, he couldn't be... Surely not, right?

"I didn't know I could fall for someone. I didn't think I ever would, and certainly not for you. But these past few days... the time we've spent together... It all just felt right. Like I was meant to be with you. I was happy... really, really happy. I don't even remember the last time I felt like that. When I saw you collapse, my heart broke." Imp's voice has fallen to a whisper, his nervousness and fear making it harder to push out the words. He didn't want Craig to reject him, but he had to tell him now, before something else happened. Besides, Thomas and Tricia, they knew Craig better than anyone, and they both said Craig was interested in him, right?

"I... I love you, Craig. I want to stay with you. Forever."

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. What was Craig suppose to say back to that? Imp had poured out his heart to him, but Craig... he was just confused. What did he say back? He wasn't ready to admit, not even to himself, that Imp's words made his body feel warm and his heart soar. He was a pastor. He couldn't love a creature of Hell, even _if_ it had been human at one point...

"Imp," he said softly, hesitantly. "I... I'm glad you told me." The other looked up, and Craig's heart ached at the hope in his eyes, knowing he was about to shatter it.

"But..."

There it went... He watched the fear take over Imp's face as he realized what was happening.

"I just... I don't know. I can't say that I love you, or that I want you to stay. A lot has been going on this week. I... I need time to think about everything, okay?"

Imp recoiled as if Craig had slapped him. His chest felt tight, and for the first time he could remember, Imp felt tears build in his eyes. "Right... O-Okay, Craig." He got to his feet unsteadily. He didn't know where he was going, he only knew he needed to get out of that small room.

"I... I'll see you later..."

"Yeah... Later, Imp."

He didn't wait a moment longer, turning and fleeing from the room, the hall, the building itself. He didn't bother to stop and try and find Thomas or Tricia. It didn't matter.

Craig didn't love him. Their confidence in the pastor's hidden feelings had been wrong, and now Imp had to suffer the consequences of acting on the unknown. He felt like a fool. Of course Craig didn't feel the same. They were exact opposites. Of course he would never see Imp that way. He was just a spawn of Hell that had yet to go back to the fiery pits.

They were barely friends, if even that. How could he have thought this could end differently?

Imp ran through the empty streets, blinded by tears. He didn't know where he was going, he just kept moving. When he finally came to a stop, he found he had taken refuge at the pond he had been so fond of. It had only been, what, a few hours ago he had last been on the bank, staring into the water and feeling peace.

He moved to the water's edge, collapsing beside the icy surface.

What should he do...? Where did he go now? He couldn't go back to the Tucker's house, not after this. He might as well go back to Hell, but honestly, Imp wasn't even sure how to open a portal to get there. Was he doomed to be stuck in the human world, sad and alone, for the rest of time?

Imp heard footsteps approaching from behind, but he didn't bother to turn around and see who was there. What difference did it make who it was anyway? It's not like-

_"You."_

Imp blinked at the voice and turned around. It was the woman who had been screaming at that police officer the other day. She was looking at Imp with a hatred he didn't know humans were even capable of.

"You killed my baby," she hissed. "Bring him back to me, right this moment."

"Your baby?" He hadn't killed any infants, what in the world was she talking about?

"You want to play dumb? Fine. See how much that helps. Look at where you're sitting, demon!"

Imp jumped at her words, moving to get to his feet. Only he couldn't. He couldn't even twitch a single muscle. His heart sped up with fear. What was happening to him? Who was this lady?

"I'll show you," the woman growled, coming towards him. "I'll show you what it means to suffer. Prepare yourself, wretch. You won't escape me, and no one will find you. Enjoy your last breath of freedom."

Imp looked down at the ground he was knelt on and paled. How did he not notice the sealing circle he had so foolishly stumbled into? What was he going to do now? What would Craig-

Craig wouldn't care. He was just an imp, after all, whether he was a former human from this town or not. He didn't want Imp to stay. He didn't share his feelings.

His heart already broken, Imp didn't try to struggle or get away. There was no point. He'd be gone and out of Craig's hair soon enough.

* * *

In his room, Craig was leaning back against a pillow, staring silently up at the ceiling as he worked to process his thoughts. He felt horribly for making Imp leave, but, perhaps it was for the best for them both. He... he wasn't interested in guys, anyway. So why did the image of Imp's crushed expression hurt him so much?

There was a soft knock at the door, and he looked over as Tricia opened it and stepped inside. "I'm back," she said softly.

"Hey."

Tricia's head snapped up, staring at her brother with huge eyes. "Craig! You woke up!" She rushed to his side, leaning against the edge of the bed. "How do you feel? Are you in any pain?"

"I'm fine," he assured, giving her a small half-smile. "Is dad here?"

"Yeah, he's just getting something to eat." She sat down in the chair beside the bed, letting out a heavy breath. "You scared the absolute shit out of us, you asshole. What the fuck even happened? Why were you and Misty out in the middle of the night with Kenny?"

"Reasons. Don't worry, it wasn't anything illegal or shady. I just can't get into it. As for what happened to me, Misty said I got hit in the head, but I don't remember it happening. I think he said Mrs. Tweak did it, but I can't imagine that."

Tricia frowned, then glanced about the room. "Speaking of, where did he go, anyway? He hasn't left your side for a single moment the entire time we've been here."

Craig bit his lip, dropping his gaze to his hands. "I don't know where he went," he said honestly. "I... I think we had a fight. Sort of."

"A fight?"

"No, that's not the right word for it..." He groaned, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "Something stuff happened, alright? He... he told me he loved me, and I didn't know what to say back. So I told him I just needed some time to think. That a lot has been going on."

There was a long silence, Tricia watching her sibling with an unreadable expression. Just as he began to feel vaguely uncomfortable under the intense look, she spoke.

"You're a fucking idiot."

He blinked in surprise, looking up at her. "Huh?"

"You're a goddamned fucking idiot, Craig," she said, getting to her feet and shaking her head. "I really can't believe you."

"What?" he demanded, feeling defense now. What had he done wrong? It wasn't like he had rejected the other, he'd only asked for some space!

"Craig." Tricia narrowed her eyes and leaned towards him, glaring. "This isn't just dad and I teasing you. This is serious. You are so dense, it's almost impressive. What do you mean 'you aren't sure'? Never in my life have I seen you be as sweet and caring with someone as you are with Misty. Never before have I watched you drop everything for someone and do all you could just to help them. For fuck's sake, Craig, you share a fucking bed with the guy!"

Craig blushed, opening his mouth to protest. Before he could make a sound, Tricia cut him off, continuing.

"Dad and I talked to him already about this. We assured him even that you felt the same, because you know what? Even if for whatever reason you aren't admitting it to yourself, it's so freaking obvious that you love him. I can tell by the way you look at him. It's the same way dad and mom look at each other. You are head over heels for him. So enlighten me, please, brother dear. What the fuck is the problem?"

"Tricia, I just... I can't get into it, okay?" Craig sat up straight, wincing slightly. "There's a lot going on that I can't explain to you."

"Because?"

"It's just weird, alright?"

"Craig. I live in South Park. The fuck do you think you can say that will be too much to handle?"

He grumbled to himself for a moment, wrestling with his thoughts before finally letting out a breath. "Alright. Fine. I'll tell you. Don't say you weren't warned."

With no small amount of hesitation, Craig told her everything. The truth about their guest, the reason for their meeting, the late night adventure, all of it. She listened without interruption, allowing him to say all he needed to before she added any comments.

"So... yeah," he finished, tapping his fingers on his leg. "He's an imp from Hell. So you can see why I've been having some struggles."

"So what?"

He looked at her in confusion "What do you mean 'so what'? He's an imp, Tricia, and I'm a pastor."

"And?"

"And it wouldn't be right!"

"Why not?"

"I! It just! It just wouldn't be!"

"That's not a reason and you know it."

Craig made a frustrated noise, dropping his head back on his pillow. "You aren't helping."

"Do you love him?"

He paused, then glanced over at her. His immediate instinct was to say no, of course not, but something wouldn't let him give voice to those words. In his mind, he went over all the moments they had shared together, the feelings he had been afraid to allow a life still finding a way to grow on their own. He was left with only one answer, and his entire being was screaming at him to say it.

"...yes," he finally whispered.

Tricia leaned over, and squeezed his hand gently. "Rest up and come home. I'm sure Mis- uh, Imp, will be waiting for you," she hummed. The door opened then, drawing there attention. Thomas stepped in and blinked at the pair.

"Oh. You're awake."

"As concerned and loving as always," Craig said, managing a weak smile.

Tricia snorted and got up, moving to the door. "Come on, dad, let's go home. Dummy is fine, just gay and dumb."

"Hey!"

"Shut up, it's true and you know it." Craig didn't get a chance to argue any further, Tricia pulling Thomas from the room and the two heading for home.

Once alone, Craig sighed and laid down, staring up at the ceiling.

"I... love Imp," he said, testing the words. It felt nice. Right. He blushed at the thought of saying it to Imp himself, then felt his stomach role sickeningly. Hopefully he wasn't too angry at Craig for being a colossal dumbass. Hopefully he could forgive him. Hopefully.

* * *

Craig didn't realize he had fallen asleep until he was being shaken awake early in the morning. He grunted in annoyance, cracking open an eye to see who was disturbing him. Recognizing the outline of Kenny, he sat up, all irritation gone.

"Dude, where've you been?" he asked.

"You know, places," the other said with a cheeky wink. "I wanted to come and check on my best boi, see how you were feeling. It's been a full day since you got creamed, feeling better?"

"Yeah, much. Though I'd feel a lot better if I knew exactly what happened."

"Imp didn't tell you?"

"He said Mrs. Tweak hit me in the head, a coffee pot I think."

"Is that all he said?"

Kenny's tone made Craig pause, and he examined him for a moment before speaking. "...yes. Do you have something you need to add? I know Imp didn't tell me everything, he went really quiet and wouldn't say anything else."

"Ah. I guess I don't blame him, things got pretty intense."

"Intense? Dude, what the fuck happened?"

Kenny sighed and shook his head. "Look, man, I'll tell you, but you aren't going to like it."

"Kenny."

"Imp.. killed the Tweaks."

Craig body went cold, and the beeping of the heart monitor doubled. "W-What?"

"Calm down," Kenny said softly, moving closer and leaning into the pastor, pressing him back into laying down. "Take some deep breaths. I don't think he did it maliciously. He thought they'd killed you."

"That doesn't make it okay!"

"I know, I know. But you know this isn't the first time he's killed people, and to be fair to him, he did it for you."

"F-For me... that isn't exactly comforting," Craig said, feeling the blood drain from his face.

"Craig." Kenny put his hands on the other's face, squishing in his cheeks and puffing out Craig's face, making the other look not unlike a very startled fish. "Tweek did it because he thought he had lost you. He didn't want to let me near you either. He was so scared, man. He was in total emotional melt down. Only knowing that you were still alive got him to calm down enough to get you here."

"God..."

"He loves you, dude."

Craig put an arm over his face, letting out a breath. He didn't know what to think now.

Imp was dangerous. That was obvious, but it had more or less slipped from his mind over the last week they'd been together. The only time Craig had seen him do something violent was their first meeting, but since then... well, he'd been downright sweet. But he was still a being from Hell with unholy powers that Craig needed to be careful around.

Yet on the other hand... he did love him. He couldn't deny it to himself any longer. He loved Imp, and he wanted him to know.

What would that do to their relationship? It's not like they could just start dating, especially since now Tricia knew the truth, and he knew about more murders done by the imp. And there was the problem of him being unsure he could trust Imp. What would stop him from going on a crazed rampage if something else happened to him?

"My head hurts," he finally sighed.

"I'm sure it does." Kenny stood up, rubbing his hair awkwardly. "I'm going to head out now then, dude. I need to get back to Karen. I'll see you later, okay?"

"Okay..." When he was finally once more, Craig sat up, shifting to sit on the edge of his bed. He couldn't bear to be still anymore, he needed to move so he could think.

Grabbing the rack his IV was connected to, Craig got to his feet, moving to the door and into the hallway. It was empty at the moment, and he took his time to walk up and down the hall, going over everything from the day before and his conversations.

Craig would be the first to admit he was shit when it came to understanding and accepting feelings. He knew that, but he still felt like an absolute moron for missing his clear attraction to Imp. It was so obvious now that he looked back on it, he could hardly stand himself. And after what he had said to him, when he had left that morning...

Why hadn't he ever come back? Had Craig hurt him that much? Recalling his words, he wanted to slap himself. He couldn't say he loved him? Or that he wanted him to stay? What the fuck was wrong with him!?

He ended up walking down to the lobby, lost in his thoughts. Taking a break from his mindless wandering, he sat on one of the couches, looking out the large panel windows that lined the front of the building.

It was a clear night outside, the moon starting to sink a bit in the morning hours, though the sun had yet to make an appearance.

' _Imp loves me... I love him... He's dangerous... but... I don't think I care..._ ' Craig was surprised by this realization, pausing to take stock of his feelings. If he was honest, which he was finally being, he wished Imp was at his side now, the two of them sitting together and getting ready to watch a sunrise. Disgustingly cheesy and cliche, but, oddly, Craig wanted to do gross stuff like that now with exactly one person. One person who would gladly do it with him as well. Or at least, who would have...

He dropped his face into his hands, asking himself for the thousandth time how he could have fucked this up so horribly. A nurse found him not long after, and took him back to his room to sleep for a while longer.

* * *

After being discharged, it took all of Craig's willpower not to go looking for Imp right away. He needed to get home first, check in with the family. The sooner that was done, the sooner he could go out again. Maybe Imp would even be waiting there? He hoped so.

Tricia was home when he arrived, doing homework at the table as always, Thomas out doing whatever it was he did on weekends. She looked over at the door when it opened and frowned, her eyebrows furrowing. That wasn't a good sign.

"What?" he asked, feeling his nerves already beginning to fray. Tricia didn't make that face very often, so something must have either happened or have been bothering her.

"Have you seen Imp?" she asked, getting to her feet.

"No, I was kind of hoping he'd be here," he said.

"He's not. I don't know where he is. Dad and I didn't see him when we got home either. I don't think he's been back since he was with you in the hospital," she informed him, her worry evident in her voice.

Fuck.

"Fuck."

"That's what I was thinking."

"Well, come on, no point hanging out here, let's go look for him," Craig insisted. He turned around quickly to ignore the flash of a smirk his sister shot at him, and the two left the house, traversing the town and checking every place they could think of to find the other.

They went to the pond, the police station, back to the pond, out to Kenny's house, the pond, the school, the pond- everywhere and anywhere Craig could think he might have been."

"Why do we keep checking Stark's?" Tricia finally asked on their fifth unsuccessful visit. "Is this place important to Imp?"

"I don't know if it's important, but he really liked it when we were doing our walk around the other day..."

Tricia patted his back. "Hey now, don't get discouraged already. We'll find him. Let's stop at home and get something to eat, then we can keep searching."

Craig agreed somewhat reluctantly. Since learning that Imp had been nowhere to be found for at least twenty-four hours, he had felt a horrible anxiety clawing at his stomach. Where was he? Had something happened? Surely Imp hadn't just taken off, right? Or worse, returned to Hell?

Once home, he skipped food, heading up to his room. Maybe Imp had left a clue to where he had gone? This thought in mind, he hurried on, entering the bedroom. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary, and for a moment, he felt bitterly defeated.

Crossing the room, he opened the door to Stripe's cage, taking him out and holding him to his chest for comfort, petting his small head lightly.

"I... I've really screwed up, Stripe," he said, sitting on the edge of his bed, looking down at the guinea pig. "I might have ruined the best thing going for me in my life. ...kind of fucked up the best thing in my life is an imp, but he's... he's worth it."

Stripe looked up at him with beady little eyes and squeaked.

"You're right," he sighed. "I should have trusted you. You knew he was a good guy right away, huh? You've always been smart..." He laid back, staring up at his ceiling. "You, Tricia, dad, everyone knew before I did. I'm a damn fool, Stripe. ... Do you think he'll ever forgive me and come back?" His last question was barely audible, Craig almost afraid of the answer.

Rather than comforting or destroying his master, Stripe wiggled free and jumped down to the floor, waddling across the room and wheeking in delight at something. Craig shot up, holding his breath in anticipation, half expecting to see Imp in the doorway or something.

The other was not there, and though he was disappointed, Craig got up, following after his pet. "What are you doing, buddy?" he asked.

Stripe was in the corner by Craig's old desk, nestling himself into a pile of ratty looking green fabric. He didn't recognize it, and had no idea how long it had been there, but Stripe seemed to be delighted with it's presence.

"What's all that?" he asked, crouching down and picking the bundle up, much to Stripe's annoyance, the guinea pig making many annoyed chitters at him.

Craig looked over the item, his confusion only growing. Where had this come from? Was it Imp's? Had he forgotten it? Something about this piece of cloth was making his head hurt, as though he was trying to remember something just out of his reach.

Standing up, he unfolded the fabric, discovering it was a small, child sized button up. Or it had used to be at least. Only one button remained at the top, and it was filled with holes and covered in burn marks. It had to have been Imp's, maybe something he had been wearing when he had been turned into an imp?

Something on the floor caught his eye, and he looked down at the spot he had taken the shirt from.

Sitting there, was a blue hat with a yellow puff.

Craig recoiled as though he had been punched in the stomach, his breaths turning to gasps as he momentarily lost the ability to breath. He collapsed onto his knees, his entire body shaking. Slowly, he put out a hand, lightly brushing his finger tips over the puff.

A scream ripped from his throat before he could even register it. Into his mind flooded memories, hundreds of them. Imp. His past. Who he was, who he used to be. Who he had been to Craig.

What had happened to him.

Tricia sprinted upstairs at the sound and found Craig convulsing on the ground, the other still unknowingly letting out the most horrific shrieks she had ever heard. The sounds would haunt her for months to come, but for the moment, all she could do was fall down beside him and hold him tight. He was babbling something over and over, and she strained her ears to understand him. What the fuck was happening?!

After what felt like an eternity, Craig's body went limp, and his screams turned into deep, heavy sobs of such despair, Tricia couldn't help but cry herself just listening to him.

"C-Craig, what's wrong? What happened?" she finally managed to force out, grabbing his shoulders and holding him tightly.

"I... I know..." he wheezed.

"You know what?"

"What happened... to... t.."

"What happened to...? To who? Craig, what's going on?"

Craig looked up, meeting her eyes, his face coated in tears.

"I know what happened to Tweek."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! Thank y'all so much for all the support you've give this story, I really appreciate it! This idea has ben on my mind for forever, and I'm so happy everyone is enjoying it so far!
> 
> I wanted to let you know, I won't be updating this story next week. I need more time to write the chapter, so rather than an update next Saturday on the 23, I'll update it on the 30th! I don't have as much time to write as I would like, so I'm sorry to have to stretch this out, but I will try to make it worth it! To make up for missing the chapter, I'll try to post something else next week for ya instead.
> 
> Thank you again for the support, it means the world to me!


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